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 Russia and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 clarinet 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 R.M.O. to the rap 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Harry Pussy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every E-Dancer record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eli Mardock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Kayak,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cymande,
The Gun Club,
Reuben Wilson,
Davy DMX,
Danielle Patucci,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Pantaleimon,
Ultimate Spinach,
Livin' Joy,
Metal Thangz,
Magma,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Birthday Party,
The Gladiators,
Shoche,
Angry Samoans,
Ludus,
Jacques Brel,
Ten City,
Robert Hood,
The Divine Comedy,
Das Ding,
Urselle,
Wings,
Q and Not U,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Niagra,
Tres Demented,
Rapeman,
The Monks,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Pus,
Man Eating Sloth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Dave Clark Five,
X-101,
Fluxion,
Johnny Osbourne,
Isaac Hayes,
Gichy Dan,
The J.B.'s,
David Axelrod,
The Move,
Tommy Roe,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ralphi Rosario,
Joensuu 1685,
Gang Green,
The Toasters,
LL Cool J,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ohio Players,
Blake Baxter,
The Durutti Column,
Rekid,
the Swans,
The Saints,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.