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 Cameroon and from Shanghai.
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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Paris.
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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sonics to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hasil Adkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crooked Eye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moebius,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Inner City,
John Coltrane,
Rapeman,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wasted Youth,
Eric Copeland,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scion,
Avey Tare,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Monochrome Set,
Henry Cow,
Parry Music,
PIL,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Robert Hood,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Minutemen,
Scrapy,
The Busters,
L. Decosne,
The J.B.'s,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Stereo Dub,
The Gories,
The Index,
Goldenarms,
Sister Nancy,
The Fortunes,
Yazoo,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Lungfish,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Nick Fraelich,
Thompson Twins,
The Electric Prunes,
Urselle,
Bang On A Can,
Donny Hathaway,
Ronnie Foster,
Sällskapet,
Bill Near,
Simply Red,
Bob Dylan,
Lindisfarne,
Lower 48,
Amazonics,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lyres,
Delta 5,
The Victims,
The Mummies,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Black Moon,
Ralphi Rosario,
Scientists,
Buzzcocks,
Main Source,
The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy, The Divine Comedy.
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.