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 Tonga and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Mad Mike to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Subhumans. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Todd Rundgren record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 guitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Brick,
U.S. Maple,
ABBA,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Ronnie Foster,
Sexual Harrassment,
Faraquet,
Warren Ellis,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Porter Ricks,
10cc,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
A Certain Ratio,
Kurtis Blow,
Angry Samoans,
The Trojans,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Robert Görl,
Von Mondo,
Sex Pistols,
Thompson Twins,
Schoolly D,
Severed Heads,
Byron Stingily,
The Leaves,
Derrick Morgan,
X-102,
Leonard Cohen,
The Gories,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Iggy Pop,
Cybotron,
Lower 48,
Clear Light,
Television Personalities,
Kaleidoscope,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Marc Almond,
Avey Tare,
Groovy Waters,
Ossler,
Suicide,
Duran Duran,
Buzzcocks,
D'Angelo,
Deakin,
Ornette Coleman,
David Axelrod,
Camouflage,
John Lydon,
Funkadelic,
Carl Craig,
Ponytail,
Sandy B,
Arab on Radar,
Barry Ungar,
Average White Band,
Eurythmics,
Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson, Roger Hodgson.
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.