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 Palau and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Captain Beefheart 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell to the crunk 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 Gang Starr. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 an oboe and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a In Retrospect record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Junior Murvin,
Jacques Brel,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mo-Dettes,
Y Pants,
Eddi Front,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Vogues,
Index,
David McCallum,
Peter & Gordon,
Joe Finger,
Ponytail,
Niagra,
Max Romeo,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Shadows of Knight,
Barbara Tucker,
The Music Machine,
Cecil Taylor,
Surgeon,
the Sonics,
DJ Style,
Bauhaus,
Rod Modell,
Aloha Tigers,
The Leaves,
Inner City,
Donny Hathaway,
Outsiders,
the Soft Cell,
The Mojo Men,
Godley & Creme,
Letta Mbulu,
Faraquet,
Eurythmics,
Moss Icon,
Depeche Mode,
Simply Red,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fire Engines,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Fuzztones,
Maleditus Sound,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Evens,
Swans,
Neil Young,
Urselle,
Althea and Donna,
Television Personalities,
Barrington Levy,
Danielle Patucci,
Roy Ayers,
Joey Negro,
The Zeros,
L. Decosne,
K-Klass,
The Blues Magoos,
FM Einheit,
Pussy Galore,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.