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 Paraguay and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 It's A Beautiful Day to the grime 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 Nils Olav. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Stooges record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks 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?
Goldenarms,
Aswad,
Fear,
The Selecter,
Max Romeo,
Bad Manners,
Arthur Verocai,
a-ha,
One Last Wish,
The Electric Prunes,
The Saints,
UT,
Anthony Braxton,
Shoche,
Q and Not U,
Depeche Mode,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ultra Naté,
The Seeds,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Skarface,
Marine Girls,
Eric B and Rakim,
Sun City Girls,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Blues Magoos,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Sound,
Johnny Osbourne,
Procol Harum,
Dave Gahan,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scientists,
These Immortal Souls,
Skriet,
Accadde A,
Janne Schatter,
The Zeros,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Drexciya,
Barrington Levy,
Half Japanese,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wasted Youth,
Infiniti,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gladiators,
Matthew Bourne,
Eddi Front,
Chris & Cosey,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Unwound,
Lakeside,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sun Ra,
Isaac Hayes,
Bobby Byrd,
Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu, Letta Mbulu.
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.