Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Dominican Republic and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing the Sonics to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
Slick Rick,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Bobby Sherman,
Kaleidoscope,
Danielle Patucci,
Kenny Larkin,
Royal Trux,
Susan Cadogan,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sonic Youth,
Sonny Sharrock,
Porter Ricks,
Tres Demented,
Alison Limerick,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Skarface,
Glenn Branca,
Barrington Levy,
Matthew Bourne,
Stereo Dub,
John Holt,
Mars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
K-Klass,
Barbara Tucker,
Don Cherry,
Lyres,
Barclay James Harvest,
Maurizio,
Sex Pistols,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Young Marble Giants,
Technova,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Slits,
Second Layer,
Kayak,
MC5,
The Index,
The Barracudas,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gang of Four,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sandy B,
Junior Murvin,
Oblivians,
Cheater Slicks,
Yazoo,
The Angels of Light,
Pylon,
Electric Prunes,
cv313,
Deepchord,
Max Romeo,
Fatback Band,
Delon & Dalcan,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.