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 San Marino and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 rhodes 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 Rites of Spring 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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Minny Pops,
The Star Department,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Last Poets,
Malaria!,
Jacob Miller,
The Beau Brummels,
Arab on Radar,
The Durutti Column,
Q65,
Fatback Band,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Suicide,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pagans,
The Invisible,
Camouflage,
Lakeside,
The Searchers,
T.S.O.L.,
Nico,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Cameo,
the Human League,
Procol Harum,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sonny Sharrock,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Tremeloes,
Warren Ellis,
The Zeros,
K-Klass,
Camberwell Now,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bill Wells,
The Associates,
Eurythmics,
Girls At Our Best!,
Marc Almond,
Siglo XX,
Chrome,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Junior Murvin,
Outsiders,
Essential Logic,
Moby Grape,
Anakelly,
Stereo Dub,
Gang Starr,
Fat Boys,
Blake Baxter,
Matthew Bourne,
Bootsy Collins,
Silicon Teens,
Parry Music,
Cymande, Cymande, Cymande, Cymande.
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.