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 Finland and from Copenhagen.
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 1963 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Das Ding to the funk 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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sam Rivers,
Los Fastidios,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
the Human League,
The Slackers,
The Move,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
8 Eyed Spy,
Khruangbin,
Crooked Eye,
Lightning Bolt,
Carl Craig,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Josef K,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Tremeloes,
Bauhaus,
Niagra,
Throbbing Gristle,
LL Cool J,
Animal Collective,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Judy Mowatt,
Leonard Cohen,
H. Thieme,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Scan 7,
Pulsallama,
Cybotron,
Piero Umiliani,
Talk Talk,
cv313,
The Trojans,
Black Sheep,
The Associates,
Ice-T,
Rakim,
Lungfish,
Sonny Sharrock,
Rufus Thomas,
Hashim,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Subhumans,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Raincoats,
Minutemen,
Boredoms,
Moss Icon,
The Music Machine,
Sarah Menescal,
Grey Daturas,
Technova,
Spandau Ballet,
Oblivians,
Bobby Womack,
Darondo,
Girls At Our Best!,
Mars,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Monolake,
DJ Style,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.