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 Korea North and from Spokane.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Magazine to the grunge 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 Rites of Spring. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann 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 clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Lydon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
These Immortal Souls,
Y Pants,
U.S. Maple,
Carl Craig,
LL Cool J,
Ronan,
Babytalk,
The Vogues,
Toni Rubio,
Shuggie Otis,
Vainqueur,
Idris Muhammad,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Black Flag,
Rod Modell,
Blossom Toes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
8 Eyed Spy,
Pussy Galore,
Barry Ungar,
Rekid,
Sparks,
L. Decosne,
Ken Boothe,
Gerry Rafferty,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scrapy,
Davy DMX,
Goldenarms,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Scott Walker,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jeff Mills,
Simply Red,
The Electric Prunes,
The Tremeloes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Johnny Clarke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sight & Sound,
ABC,
Grey Daturas,
Amon Düül II,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gang Green,
Ice-T,
Sun Ra,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rosa Yemen,
Stereo Dub,
Chris & Cosey,
Moebius,
Eurythmics,
Hot Snakes,
Avey Tare,
Iggy Pop,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.