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 Solomon Islands and from Glasgow.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 marimba 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 Pantytec to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Golliwogs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Wally Richardson,
ABBA,
Grauzone,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Fugs,
Audionom,
Aural Exciters,
Young Marble Giants,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scan 7,
Monks,
Adolescents,
KRS-One,
Sandy B,
Intrusion,
Erasure,
Brick,
Stetsasonic,
Roxy Music,
Marine Girls,
Jacob Miller,
The Cramps,
The Offenders,
The Walker Brothers,
Los Fastidios,
Boredoms,
Spoonie Gee,
Kerrie Biddell,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
T. Rex,
David Axelrod,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Pussy Galore,
Dawn Penn,
EPMD,
Make Up,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Glambeats Corp.,
Marvin Gaye,
Main Source,
Ohio Players,
Donald Byrd,
New York Dolls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Magma,
Chris Corsano,
Wolf Eyes,
Matthew Bourne,
The Young Rascals,
Todd Terry,
Man Parrish,
The Velvet Underground,
This Heat,
Soul Sonic Force,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Residents,
Marshall Jefferson,
Y Pants,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.