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 Georgia and from Edmonton.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the mellotron 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 A Flock of Seagulls to the grime 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Sight & Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Duran Duran,
The Smiths,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Grandmaster Flash,
Malaria!,
The Monks,
AZ,
Minutemen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Subhumans,
The Kinks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mandrill,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Deakin,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Reagan Youth,
Tears for Fears,
The Vogues,
Radiohead,
The Doors,
David Bowie,
Scan 7,
K-Klass,
The Zeros,
Barrington Levy,
Motorama,
Gabor Szabo,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Durutti Column,
Organ,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Camouflage,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Gladiators,
Brick,
Urselle,
Hoover,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kurtis Blow,
Hardrive,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sandy B,
Scrapy,
Dead Boys,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Intrusion,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobby Sherman,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bobby Womack,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Simply Red,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.