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 Mozambique and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Edmonton.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Barry Ungar to the rap 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 John Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minnie Riperton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Funky Four + One,
Wolf Eyes,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Doors,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
China Crisis,
The Pretty Things,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Durutti Column,
Mary Jane Girls,
Skaos,
The Neon Judgement,
a-ha,
Excepter,
Absolute Body Control,
The Smiths,
AZ,
Con Funk Shun,
The Dead C,
The Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Young Marble Giants,
The Associates,
Anakelly,
The J.B.'s,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
B.T. Express,
Monolake,
Bob Dylan,
Jeff Lynne,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
F. McDonald,
Michelle Simonal,
Harry Pussy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Blossom Toes,
kango's stein massive,
Visage,
The Alarm Clocks,
New Order,
Suicide,
Roy Ayers,
Letta Mbulu,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Ohio Players,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Blancmange,
Derrick May,
Vainqueur,
Crispian St. Peters,
8 Eyed Spy,
DNA,
E-Dancer,
Slick Rick,
Boredoms,
Cameo,
H. Thieme,
Eddi Front,
Sixth Finger,
The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters, The Toasters.
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.