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 Sudan and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 synthesizer 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 Deakin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Hasil Adkins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marcia Griffiths 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes 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 Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harry Pussy,
Gang of Four,
Procol Harum,
Scott Walker,
John Foxx,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scientists,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
ABC,
The Techniques,
KRS-One,
Jacob Miller,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Man Parrish,
Schoolly D,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Eli Mardock,
Aswad,
Roger Hodgson,
Kerri Chandler,
Fad Gadget,
Pagans,
David Bowie,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Index,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jerry's Kids,
David Axelrod,
Camouflage,
Eddi Front,
Khruangbin,
Vladislav Delay,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Hashim,
Average White Band,
The Dead C,
Dead Boys,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Rhythm & Sound,
Los Fastidios,
Morten Harket,
the Normal,
Desert Stars,
The Sound,
Joyce Sims,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Associates,
The Neon Judgement,
The Blackbyrds,
Andrew Hill,
Gang Starr,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pussy Galore,
Gichy Dan,
Idris Muhammad,
Yaz,
Toni Rubio,
Chris Corsano,
8 Eyed Spy,
Dave Gahan,
Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane, Alice Coltrane.
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.