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 Mali and from Toronto.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Franke to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 OOIOO. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Neon Judgement,
Con Funk Shun,
Mantronix,
Tom Boy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Animal Collective,
Y Pants,
Chrome,
Ultravox,
The Young Rascals,
Reagan Youth,
Avey Tare,
Ultra Naté,
Panda Bear,
Max Romeo,
the Slits,
The Gun Club,
Gichy Dan,
The Cowsills,
Nils Olav,
Ten City,
Tim Buckley,
Scan 7,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeru the Damaja,
Rhythm & Sound,
Eurythmics,
ABBA,
John Lydon,
Dennis Brown,
June Days,
Brothers Johnson,
Warren Ellis,
Slick Rick,
Faust,
The Residents,
John Coltrane,
The Slits,
Michelle Simonal,
Kerri Chandler,
Fela Kuti,
Eli Mardock,
Porter Ricks,
Barry Ungar,
Tres Demented,
Sight & Sound,
Magazine,
Ultimate Spinach,
Black Sheep,
Bob Dylan,
Soulsonic Force,
Joe Smooth,
Hot Snakes,
Minutemen,
KRS-One,
Soft Machine,
Mad Mike,
Stereo Dub,
Boredoms,
Index,
Moss Icon,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.