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 Mauritius and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 Major Organ And The Adding Machine to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Isaac Hayes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers Ubiquity record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Index,
Frankie Knuckles,
World's Most,
Deadbeat,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cal Tjader,
The Seeds,
the Bar-Kays,
Cameo,
Zero Boys,
Minnie Riperton,
Brass Construction,
Suburban Knight,
The Standells,
Brothers Johnson,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Martian,
Tim Buckley,
Ronan,
Gong,
Unrelated Segments,
Alton Ellis,
Minutemen,
David McCallum,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Marshall Jefferson,
Suicide,
The Residents,
Derrick Morgan,
Jeff Lynne,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Last Poets,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Silicon Teens,
Shuggie Otis,
Excepter,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Sister Nancy,
Slick Rick,
Gerry Rafferty,
Metal Thangz,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Hoover,
Piero Umiliani,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Leonard Cohen,
Cymande,
Barry Ungar,
Jandek,
La Düsseldorf,
Erasure,
Scratch Acid,
Darondo,
Hashim,
Barclay James Harvest,
New Age Steppers,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Max Romeo,
Roxette,
Newcleus,
Sun City Girls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.