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 Czech Republic and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Yusef Lateef to the rock 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 Sexual Harrassment. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ralphi Rosario 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masters at Work record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Scratch Acid,
The Cure,
Loose Ends,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Andrew Hill,
Sonny Sharrock,
Eurythmics,
Brick,
The Divine Comedy,
Los Fastidios,
The Motions,
Pet Shop Boys,
Shoche,
Pussy Galore,
Infiniti,
Thompson Twins,
Maurizio,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Depeche Mode,
Talk Talk,
Gastr Del Sol,
David Bowie,
New Order,
Gerry Rafferty,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Michelle Simonal,
Bauhaus,
The Detroit Cobras,
Flash Fearless,
Cymande,
Danielle Patucci,
AZ,
Robert Hood,
Moebius,
Deadbeat,
Outsiders,
Niagra,
Bobby Sherman,
Blancmange,
Panda Bear,
Jacob Miller,
Icehouse,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Dawn Penn,
F. McDonald,
Wire,
Aural Exciters,
EPMD,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
John Holt,
Sällskapet,
Royal Trux,
Sister Nancy,
The Mummies,
Ralphi Rosario,
Nirvana,
Ken Boothe,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.