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 Guinea-Bissau 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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Mary Jane Girls to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Boredoms. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Model 500 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ludus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marine Girls,
Fear,
The Star Department,
Donald Byrd,
Anthony Braxton,
Eric B and Rakim,
Erykah Badu,
Crooked Eye,
Boz Scaggs,
Bad Manners,
Anakelly,
Jacob Miller,
Charles Mingus,
The Smiths,
Judy Mowatt,
Darondo,
Surgeon,
The Music Machine,
Bobby Womack,
Gichy Dan,
Glenn Branca,
Shuggie Otis,
Moss Icon,
Fatback Band,
L. Decosne,
Vladislav Delay,
Eli Mardock,
The Selecter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Cluster,
The Index,
Harpers Bizarre,
These Immortal Souls,
Thompson Twins,
Johnny Clarke,
Country Teasers,
Cymande,
Desert Stars,
Deakin,
The Shadows of Knight,
Loose Ends,
Derrick May,
Jesper Dahlback,
Drive Like Jehu,
Q65,
Deepchord,
Camberwell Now,
Hasil Adkins,
Michelle Simonal,
David Bowie,
Danielle Patucci,
a-ha,
Dark Day,
B.T. Express,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Suicide,
Faust,
The Beau Brummels,
Alice Coltrane,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks, Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks.
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.