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 Somalia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Anthony Braxton to the grime 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 Grey Daturas. All the underground hits.
All Cheater Slicks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every MDC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Severed Heads,
The Fall,
Subhumans,
Iggy Pop,
Judy Mowatt,
Scion,
Slave,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Five Americans,
Flipper,
Lightning Bolt,
Bluetip,
Frankie Knuckles,
Faraquet,
Radiohead,
The Alarm Clocks,
Kerri Chandler,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Althea and Donna,
Trumans Water,
Lower 48,
Kas Product,
Easy Going,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Searchers,
China Crisis,
Country Teasers,
The Fuzztones,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Kinks,
Lucky Dragons,
Patti Smith,
the Sonics,
Dead Boys,
Rakim,
Scrapy,
The Moleskins,
The Divine Comedy,
Colin Newman,
Letta Mbulu,
Model 500,
Black Flag,
The New Christs,
DJ Sneak,
Organ,
MC5,
The Durutti Column,
Average White Band,
Godley & Creme,
Lungfish,
Fluxion,
The Moody Blues,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Barry Ungar,
Rosa Yemen,
The Dead C,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Agent Orange,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker, Barbara Tucker.
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.