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 Seychelles and from Houston.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Marvin Gaye to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lou Christie. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eurythmics,
The Durutti Column,
Boogie Down Productions,
Agent Orange,
Sound Behaviour,
Mr. Review,
the Sonics,
Hardrive,
Loose Ends,
Faraquet,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Juan Atkins,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Fad Gadget,
Bootsy Collins,
Nation of Ulysses,
One Last Wish,
The Barracudas,
B.T. Express,
D'Angelo,
Freddie Wadling,
Blancmange,
Sandy B,
Reagan Youth,
Laurel Aitken,
Franke,
The Angels of Light,
Peter & Gordon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Make Up,
The Knickerbockers,
This Heat,
Joy Division,
Donny Hathaway,
OOIOO,
Jeff Mills,
The Gap Band,
Brick,
Ultimate Spinach,
Magma,
Subhumans,
Don Cherry,
Robert Görl,
Joe Finger,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Victims,
Sarah Menescal,
The Kinks,
Marmalade,
Inner City,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Michelle Simonal,
The Red Krayola,
Hasil Adkins,
Rotary Connection,
Wolf Eyes,
Erykah Badu,
Soft Machine,
the Soft Cell,
Gang Green,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eric B and Rakim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane, Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane.
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.