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 Cuba and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eric Dolphy to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marvin Gaye. All the underground hits.
All Spoonie Gee tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Faraquet 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a F. McDonald record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Basic Channel,
Clear Light,
Black Pus,
CMW,
Das Ding,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Neil Young,
Soul Sonic Force,
Amon Düül II,
Cal Tjader,
Theoretical Girls,
Goldenarms,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Cowsills,
Michelle Simonal,
Tim Buckley,
Tubeway Army,
Fatback Band,
Mr. Review,
The Techniques,
The Kinks,
Siglo XX,
Second Layer,
Graham Central Station,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Yusef Lateef,
Cecil Taylor,
The Stooges,
Max Romeo,
Lungfish,
The Tremeloes,
The Young Rascals,
Oneida,
Outsiders,
L. Decosne,
Arab on Radar,
Kool Moe Dee,
Girls At Our Best!,
Absolute Body Control,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Womack,
Spandau Ballet,
H. Thieme,
Radio Birdman,
The Blues Magoos,
Depeche Mode,
Mad Mike,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roger Hodgson,
Morten Harket,
AZ,
Andrew Hill,
James White and The Blacks,
Charles Mingus,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Vladislav Delay,
Reagan Youth,
Circle Jerks,
Anthony Braxton,
The Angels of Light,
D'Angelo,
Maurizio,
Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy, Public Enemy.
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.