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 Yemen and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic 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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Frankie Knuckles to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Harry Pussy. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Desert Stars record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Japan,
Funkadelic,
Kurtis Blow,
Kayak,
Eddi Front,
Vainqueur,
Whodini,
June of 44,
Charles Mingus,
Trumans Water,
Letta Mbulu,
Chrome,
A Certain Ratio,
Gil Scott Heron,
Dennis Brown,
The Cowsills,
the Normal,
Maurizio,
Ultra Naté,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Gang Starr,
Eden Ahbez,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fela Kuti,
Minor Threat,
Ice-T,
Fatback Band,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
a-ha,
The Blackbyrds,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Monolake,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Terry Callier,
Robert Wyatt,
Rufus Thomas,
Eve St. Jones,
Mantronix,
Bob Dylan,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Pagans,
Man Eating Sloth,
Scientists,
Radiopuhelimet,
Livin' Joy,
Unrelated Segments,
Davy DMX,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
R.M.O.,
Robert Görl,
The Seeds,
Man Parrish,
Delon & Dalcan,
Crime,
The Durutti Column,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Metal Thangz,
Todd Rundgren,
Rhythm & Sound,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.