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 East Timor and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Malaria! to the rap 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 Frankie Knuckles. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marmalade 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a kango's stein massive record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Stiv Bators,
The Standells,
Oneida,
Severed Heads,
Los Fastidios,
The Music Machine,
Jawbox,
Nirvana,
Sister Nancy,
The Saints,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Michelle Simonal,
Scion,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Iggy Pop,
Vladislav Delay,
Motorama,
CMW,
Ossler,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Bush Tetras,
Curtis Mayfield,
Yaz,
Maleditus Sound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Zapp,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Rotary Connection,
The Buckinghams,
Unrelated Segments,
Rapeman,
Q and Not U,
Warren Ellis,
The Raincoats,
Neu!,
Byron Stingily,
Man Eating Sloth,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Fatback Band,
Pylon,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sandy B,
Morten Harket,
Prince Buster,
The Velvet Underground,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
the Soft Cell,
Babytalk,
Judy Mowatt,
Spandau Ballet,
Vainqueur,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Royal Trux,
U.S. Maple,
Duran Duran,
The Index,
David Bowie,
Gong, Gong, Gong, Gong.
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.