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 Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Gastr Del Sol to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arthur Verocai record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Selector Dub Narcotic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
The Angels of Light,
Trumans Water,
Ornette Coleman,
Bush Tetras,
X-Ray Spex,
Johnny Clarke,
Groovy Waters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Bronski Beat,
Rakim,
Aloha Tigers,
Marmalade,
Davy DMX,
Tropical Tobacco,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wolf Eyes,
Ituana,
The Count Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
Ludus,
David Axelrod,
Matthew Halsall,
Interpol,
New Order,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dorothy Ashby,
Boredoms,
Grandmaster Flash,
U.S. Maple,
The Victims,
Terrestrial Tones,
Boz Scaggs,
Ultra Naté,
Rapeman,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Basic Channel,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Fatback Band,
La Düsseldorf,
Ossler,
Bobby Byrd,
Q and Not U,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jeff Mills,
The Saints,
Liliput,
The Moleskins,
The Music Machine,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Bootsy Collins,
Adolescents,
Moby Grape,
The Martian,
Minny Pops,
Babytalk,
Jeru the Damaja,
Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon, Beasts of Bourbon.
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.