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 Tanzania and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 rhodes 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 Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Liliput. All the underground hits.
All Parry Music tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rapeman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeru the Damaja,
Fat Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Cal Tjader,
Ronnie Foster,
Eric Dolphy,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ralphi Rosario,
Steve Hackett,
Soulsonic Force,
The Pop Group,
Can,
Audionom,
EPMD,
Sandy B,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eric Copeland,
Nico,
Camouflage,
Lower 48,
Freddie Wadling,
Maleditus Sound,
Shuggie Otis,
Q and Not U,
Brothers Johnson,
The Slackers,
Juan Atkins,
Mission of Burma,
Youth Brigade,
Swans,
Chris & Cosey,
Unrelated Segments,
Ice-T,
Bauhaus,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
James White and The Blacks,
The Happenings,
Hot Snakes,
Spandau Ballet,
June Days,
Roxette,
The Dirtbombs,
The Vogues,
Ronan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Crooked Eye,
Television,
Archie Shepp,
Erykah Badu,
MDC,
Gerry Rafferty,
Piero Umiliani,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Blossom Toes,
Wasted Youth,
Panda Bear,
Black Moon,
Henry Cow,
The Neon Judgement,
The Martian,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.