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 Romania and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Paris.
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 clarinet 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 Richard Hell and the Voidoids to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All The J.B.'s tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boogie Down Productions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Slave record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Bob Dylan,
Desert Stars,
Bronski Beat,
Funkadelic,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Residents,
Sandy B,
The Red Krayola,
Negative Approach,
Clear Light,
Dead Boys,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Zeros,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
MC5,
Morten Harket,
Matthew Halsall,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ludus,
Derrick Morgan,
Ken Boothe,
Chris Corsano,
Royal Trux,
Hoover,
The Sound,
The J.B.'s,
Lou Reed,
Magma,
Nico,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
AZ,
the Germs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Cale,
Lyres,
Yusef Lateef,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Human League,
E-Dancer,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Robert Wyatt,
Grandmaster Flash,
Massinfluence,
Con Funk Shun,
The Dead C,
Curtis Mayfield,
Sonny Sharrock,
Pierre Henry,
Oneida,
Fugazi,
Cluster,
Scrapy,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Divine Comedy,
8 Eyed Spy,
Vladislav Delay,
Scientists,
Jawbox,
Make Up,
Ultra Naté,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.