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 Morocco and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in 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 Shanghai and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 chamberlin 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 Brand Nubian to the funk 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 Kings Of Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Stiv Bators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Index record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
The Victims,
David Bowie,
Public Image Ltd.,
UT,
Drexciya,
Harmonia,
Organ,
Crash Course in Science,
Masters at Work,
Warren Ellis,
Mark Hollis,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Pagans,
Wally Richardson,
The Index,
The Remains,
Eric B and Rakim,
EPMD,
The Five Americans,
The Mummies,
the Swans,
Make Up,
Idris Muhammad,
Sarah Menescal,
Nas,
Ornette Coleman,
The Moleskins,
Wings,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Bad Manners,
Rites of Spring,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Marcia Griffiths,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bang On A Can,
The Fortunes,
Brick,
Frankie Knuckles,
Average White Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Johnny Clarke,
Pere Ubu,
The Sound,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Black Flag,
T. Rex,
Television Personalities,
Sight & Sound,
Minny Pops,
Main Source,
Skarface,
Girls At Our Best!,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Desert Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Black Sheep,
KRS-One,
The Golliwogs,
Infiniti,
B.T. Express,
Sonny Sharrock,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.