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 Kazakhstan and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 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 Tommy Roe to the jazz 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 Justin Hinds & The Dominoes. All the underground hits.
All Stetsasonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell 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?
The Sisters of Mercy,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Agent Orange,
The Seeds,
Porter Ricks,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Selecter,
Average White Band,
Thee Headcoats,
Judy Mowatt,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Monks,
Harmonia,
The Mummies,
Ken Boothe,
Yusef Lateef,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Leaves,
The Happenings,
Kevin Saunderson,
X-102,
Desert Stars,
L. Decosne,
a-ha,
Derrick May,
The Associates,
The Cramps,
The Walker Brothers,
Urselle,
10cc,
Youth Brigade,
Al Stewart,
Bang On A Can,
Glenn Branca,
Carl Craig,
Bobby Byrd,
Model 500,
Scratch Acid,
Bobby Womack,
This Heat,
MC5,
Bob Dylan,
Los Fastidios,
Ponytail,
Spandau Ballet,
Mars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Slick Rick,
The Fugs,
Parry Music,
The Cowsills,
the Swans,
Minor Threat,
Easy Going,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Names,
Bill Wells,
Godley & Creme,
Todd Rundgren,
Peter & Gordon,
Cecil Taylor,
Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne, Johnny Osbourne.
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.