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 Turkey and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 808 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 Gichy Dan to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Charles Mingus 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
New York Dolls,
Jawbox,
X-101,
The Moody Blues,
Terrestrial Tones,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Count Five,
Fugazi,
Niagra,
The Tremeloes,
The Mummies,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
LL Cool J,
Spoonie Gee,
Letta Mbulu,
Blancmange,
Bill Wells,
Metal Thangz,
Clear Light,
Tom Boy,
Gang Starr,
Alton Ellis,
U.S. Maple,
The United States of America,
E-Dancer,
Schoolly D,
Bootsy Collins,
Icehouse,
Arthur Verocai,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Eden Ahbez,
Skarface,
David Bowie,
Little Man,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Fire Engines,
Drive Like Jehu,
FM Einheit,
Cameo,
Sixth Finger,
JFA,
Porter Ricks,
Erasure,
The Cramps,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
UT,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Fela Kuti,
Sun Ra,
Wire,
Rufus Thomas,
Spandau Ballet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Basic Channel,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Ice-T,
Trumans Water,
The Slits,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron, Gil Scott Heron.
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.