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 Philippines and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Michael McDonald 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 Judy Mowatt to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fad Gadget 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
The Happenings,
Gil Scott Heron,
Arab on Radar,
Lou Christie,
Scan 7,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Donny Hathaway,
The Index,
New York Dolls,
the Bar-Kays,
Tres Demented,
Marc Almond,
Toni Rubio,
Jerry's Kids,
The Raincoats,
Symarip,
Angry Samoans,
The Kinks,
Crime,
Talk Talk,
The Moleskins,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Niagra,
The Velvet Underground,
8 Eyed Spy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pagans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Archie Shepp,
Minny Pops,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Trumans Water,
the Soft Cell,
Stiv Bators,
Chris & Cosey,
The Neon Judgement,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Dave Clark Five,
Rakim,
Moss Icon,
The Angels of Light,
48th St. Collective,
Marmalade,
A Certain Ratio,
Heaven 17,
The Busters,
Outsiders,
T.S.O.L.,
Roxette,
Fluxion,
Masters at Work,
Boredoms,
Scion,
Rosa Yemen,
Wolf Eyes,
Depeche Mode,
Pussy Galore,
The Count Five,
The Associates,
The Buckinghams,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.