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 Trinidad & Tobago and from London.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
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 Residents to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Young Rascals record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echo & the Bunnymen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Copeland,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Erykah Badu,
The Smoke,
The Names,
The Gun Club,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Shadows of Knight,
Flash Fearless,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Seeds,
T.S.O.L.,
The Litter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Angry Samoans,
Procol Harum,
Pierre Henry,
Rekid,
Boz Scaggs,
Outsiders,
the Bar-Kays,
Fluxion,
Stockholm Monsters,
Harpers Bizarre,
Second Layer,
The Durutti Column,
Sex Pistols,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Junior Murvin,
Animal Collective,
Terrestrial Tones,
Saccharine Trust,
Eurythmics,
The Black Dice,
ABC,
Tres Demented,
Index,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Stetsasonic,
Lungfish,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Arcadia,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ituana,
The Victims,
Ronnie Foster,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Erasure,
Duran Duran,
David Bowie,
Henry Cow,
Gong,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fugazi,
Byron Stingily,
The Fugs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mr. Review,
The Electric Prunes,
Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp., Glambeats Corp..
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.