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 Swaziland and from Cairo.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
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 guitar 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 X-102 to the crunk 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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All The Evens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Idris Muhammad record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dennis Brown record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barrington Levy,
The Barracudas,
Derrick Morgan,
R.M.O.,
Hashim,
Gregory Isaacs,
Gastr Del Sol,
Flipper,
Colin Newman,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mad Mike,
Marvin Gaye,
Al Stewart,
Lungfish,
Yaz,
This Heat,
Cameo,
John Cale,
Roy Ayers,
Kaleidoscope,
Can,
John Holt,
Junior Murvin,
Desert Stars,
Crispian St. Peters,
Cheater Slicks,
KRS-One,
The Selecter,
Moby Grape,
Funkadelic,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Gong,
Pierre Henry,
Angry Samoans,
Cecil Taylor,
CMW,
the Swans,
Basic Channel,
Freddie Wadling,
Lucky Dragons,
Suicide,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Brothers Johnson,
The Real Kids,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Yusef Lateef,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Harry Pussy,
The Seeds,
The Fall,
Nick Fraelich,
Lou Christie,
Crooked Eye,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Von Mondo,
Bauhaus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Q and Not U,
The Raincoats,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks, The Alarm Clocks.
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.