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 El Salvador and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Parry Music to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Metal Thangz. All the underground hits.
All Japan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Boogie Down Productions,
Amazonics,
The Victims,
Monks,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scrapy,
Groovy Waters,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
In Retrospect,
Sunsets and Hearts,
X-102,
The Red Krayola,
Public Image Ltd.,
John Lydon,
cv313,
Funkadelic,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Zeros,
The Golliwogs,
The J.B.'s,
Deakin,
Gregory Isaacs,
Letta Mbulu,
H. Thieme,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Smoke,
L. Decosne,
The Dead C,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Ornette Coleman,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Oblivians,
Icehouse,
Rod Modell,
Nico,
Soft Machine,
Bronski Beat,
Robert Görl,
Sixth Finger,
Ultimate Spinach,
Angry Samoans,
Radio Birdman,
The Offenders,
The Moody Blues,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Public Enemy,
Patti Smith,
Electric Prunes,
The Toasters,
Donald Byrd,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Robert Hood,
Second Layer,
Half Japanese,
Index,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Slackers,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.