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 Kuwait and from Tehran.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Royal Trux to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All the Association tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalo Schifrin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nirvana,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Unrelated Segments,
Eric B and Rakim,
Hot Snakes,
The Vogues,
Wolf Eyes,
The American Breed,
Mars,
The Barracudas,
The Fortunes,
Sun City Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
the Association,
Skriet,
MDC,
Rotary Connection,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alison Limerick,
Cheater Slicks,
Thee Headcoats,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gang Green,
Anthony Braxton,
The Associates,
Maleditus Sound,
Erasure,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Arthur Verocai,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Throbbing Gristle,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Stooges,
Vainqueur,
Man Eating Sloth,
Crooked Eye,
Charles Mingus,
Junior Murvin,
Mr. Review,
Crispy Ambulance,
Bauhaus,
Alton Ellis,
EPMD,
Oneida,
Soul II Soul,
T.S.O.L.,
The Gun Club,
Pharoah Sanders,
Masters at Work,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
New Age Steppers,
X-102,
the Normal,
Con Funk Shun,
Pulsallama,
Derrick Morgan,
The Trojans,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Moody Blues,
Neil Young,
Minnie Riperton,
Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force, Soulsonic Force.
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.