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 Serbia and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sex Pistols to the grunge 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 The Grass Roots. All the underground hits.
All Tubeway Army tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liaisons Dangereuses 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Bananas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Unwound,
Morten Harket,
Procol Harum,
Nils Olav,
Theoretical Girls,
Buzzcocks,
Slick Rick,
The Litter,
Magazine,
Vladislav Delay,
Henry Cow,
Camberwell Now,
Peter and Kerry,
Popol Vuh,
The Detroit Cobras,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Piero Umiliani,
Carl Craig,
Erasure,
Agitation Free,
Desert Stars,
The New Christs,
Dorothy Ashby,
Yaz,
The Trojans,
Darondo,
Grandmaster Flash,
DJ Style,
Mr. Review,
Aswad,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Sheep,
Sam Rivers,
Robert Görl,
The Monochrome Set,
The Leaves,
K-Klass,
The Techniques,
Juan Atkins,
Alton Ellis,
Faust,
The Moleskins,
Drive Like Jehu,
Flamin' Groovies,
Groovy Waters,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Red Krayola,
Hoover,
The Index,
Minny Pops,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Birthday Party,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Technova,
The Modern Lovers,
Kerrie Biddell,
Alice Coltrane,
Aloha Tigers,
Scientists,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Slits,
Sight & Sound,
X-102, X-102, X-102, X-102.
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.