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 Australia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Accra.
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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro 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 Judy Mowatt to the punk 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 The Blues Magoos. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Erykah Badu 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Livin' Joy,
Faraquet,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
B.T. Express,
Radiopuhelimet,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bob Dylan,
Black Pus,
The Wake,
Monks,
Funkadelic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Todd Rundgren,
Buzzcocks,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scrapy,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Pop Group,
Ponytail,
The Cure,
Tomorrow,
X-102,
Bluetip,
Scott Walker,
Scan 7,
The Pretty Things,
Negative Approach,
Don Cherry,
The Dead C,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Massinfluence,
The Last Poets,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Coltrane,
The Walker Brothers,
Man Parrish,
Josef K,
The Residents,
The Blackbyrds,
This Heat,
Davy DMX,
Nirvana,
Joey Negro,
Lalann,
Magma,
The Remains,
Ultra Naté,
Suburban Knight,
The Angels of Light,
Q and Not U,
Roxette,
F. McDonald,
Roxy Music,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Buckinghams,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Duran Duran,
China Crisis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott, Sugar Minott.
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.