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 Libya and from Madrid.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Todd Terry to the funk 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 Rekid. All the underground hits.
All The Litter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Radio Birdman,
The Kinks,
Max Romeo,
the Bar-Kays,
New Order,
Hoover,
Barrington Levy,
Tim Buckley,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Desert Stars,
Masters at Work,
Marine Girls,
James White and The Blacks,
One Last Wish,
The Fuzztones,
Camberwell Now,
Deakin,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Darondo,
Nirvana,
Country Teasers,
Massinfluence,
Panda Bear,
Nick Fraelich,
The Sonics,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kurtis Blow,
The Black Dice,
Maurizio,
The Techniques,
Yazoo,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gabor Szabo,
Y Pants,
Minutemen,
Ossler,
Electric Prunes,
Thee Headcoats,
Ornette Coleman,
Alton Ellis,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Five Americans,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
X-Ray Spex,
Josef K,
Robert Görl,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Holt,
Mr. Review,
Ultra Naté,
Godley & Creme,
Wire,
Juan Atkins,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rhythm & Sound,
Derrick May,
The Mummies,
John Cale,
Bad Manners,
Roy Ayers,
Sugar Minott,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.