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 Cape Verde and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Tokyo.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Five Americans to the jazz 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 Black Flag. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Intrusion,
JFA,
Ralphi Rosario,
U.S. Maple,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Talk Talk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Traffic Nightmare,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sister Nancy,
Newcleus,
Ice-T,
Make Up,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Inner City,
Terry Callier,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Joey Negro,
Section 25,
Tommy Roe,
The Blues Magoos,
John Foxx,
Arab on Radar,
Drive Like Jehu,
Fugazi,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Liliput,
Morten Harket,
Altered Images,
Lower 48,
Ludus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Little Man,
Clear Light,
New Order,
Archie Shepp,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Cybotron,
T.S.O.L.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Marmalade,
Gong,
The Fire Engines,
X-101,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nirvana,
Man Parrish,
the Germs,
The Litter,
The Detroit Cobras,
Colin Newman,
Eddi Front,
AZ,
Sam Rivers,
Jerry's Kids,
Television Personalities,
Black Sheep,
Underground Resistance,
Charles Mingus,
The Doobie Brothers,
Public Enemy,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.