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 Malta and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 sitar 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 the Fania All-Stars to the funk 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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Bobby Byrd,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fugazi,
Robert Hood,
Quantec,
Delta 5,
The Cure,
Kas Product,
Yellowson,
Kenny Larkin,
Ituana,
Joensuu 1685,
Parry Music,
Jeff Lynne,
Lightning Bolt,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Blues Magoos,
Fela Kuti,
Hot Snakes,
the Swans,
Ohio Players,
The Gories,
L. Decosne,
The Velvet Underground,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
June of 44,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Electric Prunes,
David Axelrod,
Wally Richardson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Nick Fraelich,
Al Stewart,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Last Poets,
John Coltrane,
Sugar Minott,
Todd Terry,
Graham Central Station,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Ornette Coleman,
The Trojans,
Delon & Dalcan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Max Romeo,
T.S.O.L.,
Niagra,
The Young Rascals,
Roger Hodgson,
Joy Division,
Soul II Soul,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Tres Demented,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths, Marcia Griffiths.
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.