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 Sri Lanka and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 theremin 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 to the disco 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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & John Cale tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kango’s Stein Massive record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Hood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Max Romeo,
Ice-T,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rites of Spring,
Ludus,
Magazine,
The Skatalites,
Second Layer,
Nik Kershaw,
Nas,
The Modern Lovers,
The Sonics,
Frankie Knuckles,
James White and The Blacks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Angels of Light,
Flash Fearless,
Fluxion,
Warsaw,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Leaves,
Ultravox,
The Last Poets,
Sonny Sharrock,
F. McDonald,
Minny Pops,
Reuben Wilson,
X-Ray Spex,
World's Most,
Absolute Body Control,
Gichy Dan,
Au Pairs,
Pierre Henry,
Terrestrial Tones,
Henry Cow,
Royal Trux,
Ponytail,
Icehouse,
Man Parrish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Danielle Patucci,
The Martian,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Reagan Youth,
Metal Thangz,
The Index,
Interpol,
The Toasters,
Jeff Mills,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Erasure,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Josef K,
Symarip,
Tomorrow,
Barrington Levy,
Public Enemy,
The Evens,
Nirvana,
Ornette Coleman,
DNA, DNA, DNA, DNA.
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.