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 Tonga and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Moody Blues to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Saints. All the underground hits.
All Pet Shop Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tres Demented record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
Cameo,
Make Up,
Ken Boothe,
China Crisis,
Gong,
Patti Smith,
Pylon,
UT,
Brothers Johnson,
The Divine Comedy,
Prince Buster,
Scion,
The Fire Engines,
The Smoke,
Eric B and Rakim,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bauhaus,
Amon Düül,
The Electric Prunes,
The Mojo Men,
Albert Ayler,
Sixth Finger,
the Human League,
The Sonics,
Barry Ungar,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Davy DMX,
Black Sheep,
Cheater Slicks,
The Fugs,
Rapeman,
David Axelrod,
B.T. Express,
Supertramp,
Chris Corsano,
Chrome,
Kenny Larkin,
Bob Dylan,
Kayak,
Robert Wyatt,
Pharoah Sanders,
Desert Stars,
The Invisible,
The Cure,
X-101,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
John Cale,
David Bowie,
Fatback Band,
Youth Brigade,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Visage,
Flipper,
Peter & Gordon,
Porter Ricks,
Mantronix,
Gabor Szabo,
Neil Young,
JFA,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.