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 Angola and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 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 Thompson Twins 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 KRS-One. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minny Pops record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
The Toasters,
Cybotron,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Amon Düül,
Suburban Knight,
The Gap Band,
Royal Trux,
Charles Mingus,
Marc Almond,
Monolake,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Beau Brummels,
Vladislav Delay,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jesper Dahlback,
10cc,
Quadrant,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Music Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
Joy Division,
Dave Gahan,
Man Parrish,
The Motions,
The Grass Roots,
Electric Prunes,
D'Angelo,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Moleskins,
The Sound,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bootsy Collins,
Robert Hood,
Nils Olav,
Loose Ends,
Tim Buckley,
The Durutti Column,
the Bar-Kays,
Byron Stingily,
Morten Harket,
Black Bananas,
Hasil Adkins,
Fugazi,
Fela Kuti,
Bang On A Can,
Trumans Water,
New York Dolls,
Fear,
The Red Krayola,
The Slackers,
Theoretical Girls,
Althea and Donna,
Bauhaus,
H. Thieme,
Darondo,
Ludus,
The American Breed,
Pussy Galore,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
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.