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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Philadelphia.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kurtis Blow to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Zapp. All the underground hits.
All Robert Görl tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Durutti Column record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Metal Thangz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
Isaac Hayes,
Au Pairs,
The Dirtbombs,
The Slackers,
Bluetip,
The Last Poets,
John Cale,
Jesper Dahlback,
Gil Scott Heron,
Don Cherry,
Tubeway Army,
Q and Not U,
Andrew Hill,
Y Pants,
One Last Wish,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Saints,
Lalann,
Althea and Donna,
The Pop Group,
Bill Wells,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
D'Angelo,
Lee Hazlewood,
B.T. Express,
Sugar Minott,
48th St. Collective,
Laurel Aitken,
Make Up,
Lou Christie,
Accadde A,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Remains,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Fall,
UT,
A Certain Ratio,
Eden Ahbez,
Junior Murvin,
Rekid,
The Knickerbockers,
Crash Course in Science,
Franke,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Barbara Tucker,
The Electric Prunes,
Hashim,
Underground Resistance,
Wally Richardson,
Nico,
Boredoms,
Letta Mbulu,
L. Decosne,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Fatback Band,
Lou Reed,
The Star Department,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.