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 Eritrea and from Manchester.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane to the funk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Todd Terry. All the underground hits.
All Franke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash,
The Real Kids,
Deadbeat,
Reuben Wilson,
Minnie Riperton,
Sonic Youth,
the Sonics,
Index,
Maurizio,
Outsiders,
Crispy Ambulance,
Fat Boys,
Rod Modell,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Goldenarms,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Misunderstood,
Sandy B,
The Evens,
T. Rex,
Kas Product,
Flipper,
CMW,
Faust,
Neu!,
Marc Almond,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Blancmange,
Joey Negro,
The Black Dice,
Whodini,
Todd Rundgren,
China Crisis,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Red Krayola,
the Human League,
Amazonics,
Joe Smooth,
EPMD,
The Gap Band,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Eden Ahbez,
Sexual Harrassment,
Stereo Dub,
Agent Orange,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Pantytec,
Reagan Youth,
Eurythmics,
Subhumans,
Gabor Szabo,
Brass Construction,
Sam Rivers,
Fugazi,
Theoretical Girls,
Lou Christie,
The Wake,
Severed Heads,
FM Einheit,
Moss Icon,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Trumans Water,
Organ,
X-101, X-101, X-101, X-101.
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.