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 Estonia and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1984 at the first Arcadia practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the theremin 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 The Selecter 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 Kaleidoscope. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice 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?
The Trojans,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rufus Thomas,
Joy Division,
Monks,
R.M.O.,
Slick Rick,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Doors,
The Modern Lovers,
The Young Rascals,
The Mummies,
Visage,
Iggy Pop,
Robert Wyatt,
The Fugs,
Joe Finger,
The Happenings,
E-Dancer,
Marvin Gaye,
John Lydon,
The Gun Club,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Black Pus,
The American Breed,
ABC,
Nico,
The Five Americans,
Wire,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Sällskapet,
Outsiders,
48th St. Collective,
Fatback Band,
Gang Green,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ultra Naté,
Bush Tetras,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Jacques Brel,
Dennis Brown,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Eden Ahbez,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Victims,
Can,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Joensuu 1685,
Nils Olav,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Delta 5,
Fela Kuti,
Suicide,
Nas,
Andrew Hill,
Mr. Review,
The Walker Brothers,
The Skatalites,
Steve Hackett,
Barrington Levy,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar, Barry Ungar.
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.