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 Malaysia and from Bremen.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the marimba 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 Brass Construction to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Erykah Badu. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Graham Central Station,
Heaven 17,
Rufus Thomas,
June of 44,
Fat Boys,
The Neon Judgement,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Matthew Bourne,
AZ,
Pere Ubu,
Lindisfarne,
Deepchord,
Pulsallama,
Kenny Larkin,
Bootsy Collins,
Hot Snakes,
Lou Christie,
Joe Smooth,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dawn Penn,
Stereo Dub,
Sexual Harrassment,
Echospace,
Los Fastidios,
Eli Mardock,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Blues Magoos,
Aswad,
Piero Umiliani,
Sugar Minott,
Sixth Finger,
Accadde A,
Al Stewart,
Deadbeat,
Lakeside,
Marine Girls,
Roy Ayers,
The Techniques,
Procol Harum,
The Evens,
the Normal,
the Sonics,
Bill Near,
Qualms,
Joe Finger,
Kayak,
Sandy B,
The Monks,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
F. McDonald,
Y Pants,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ken Boothe,
The Birthday Party,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Siglo XX,
Groovy Waters,
Flash Fearless,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Trojans,
John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane, John Coltrane.
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.