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 Pakistan and from Spokane.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Ten City to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 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 jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Aloha Tigers,
Average White Band,
The Star Department,
Jerry's Kids,
Oneida,
Ituana,
Rekid,
Deepchord,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Remains,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Heaven 17,
Radio Birdman,
The Neon Judgement,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
X-101,
Graham Central Station,
Robert Görl,
Youth Brigade,
Charles Mingus,
Country Joe & The Fish,
John Holt,
The Index,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Max Romeo,
Marcia Griffiths,
Porter Ricks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Buckinghams,
Nation of Ulysses,
Idris Muhammad,
Funky Four + One,
Brothers Johnson,
Eve St. Jones,
Goldenarms,
The Standells,
Theoretical Girls,
Scrapy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dead Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
Depeche Mode,
Slick Rick,
Crispian St. Peters,
Reagan Youth,
Mission of Burma,
Grey Daturas,
Adolescents,
Prince Buster,
Metal Thangz,
Isaac Hayes,
Cal Tjader,
Pole,
The Monks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Ludus,
The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group, The Pop Group.
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.