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 India and from Manila.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 The Last Poets to the dance 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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scott Walker record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Smoke,
Kurtis Blow,
The Dead C,
The Mummies,
Man Parrish,
The Residents,
Letta Mbulu,
The Selecter,
The Angels of Light,
Eyeless In Gaza,
David Axelrod,
the Swans,
Erykah Badu,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Sonics,
Saccharine Trust,
Fat Boys,
Faraquet,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sällskapet,
DJ Sneak,
Porter Ricks,
Massinfluence,
Ituana,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minnie Riperton,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Ohio Players,
Hoover,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
James White and The Blacks,
Liliput,
The United States of America,
Groovy Waters,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Grey Daturas,
The Beau Brummels,
One Last Wish,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nirvana,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Aural Exciters,
Roxy Music,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grandmaster Flash,
Can,
Bauhaus,
Alton Ellis,
Warsaw,
Maurizio,
Harpers Bizarre,
Model 500,
Ronnie Foster,
Duran Duran,
New Order,
Cheater Slicks,
Parry Music,
Organ,
Dead Boys,
John Coltrane,
a-ha,
Fugazi,
The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras, The Detroit Cobras.
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.