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 Malawi and from Woodstock.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Marcia Griffiths. All the underground hits.
All Porter Ricks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every De La Soul & Jungle Brothers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moss Icon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
H. Thieme,
Dual Sessions,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sällskapet,
June of 44,
Bang On A Can,
The Red Krayola,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Gang Green,
Joey Negro,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Das Ding,
D'Angelo,
Toni Rubio,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Associates,
Lou Christie,
Harpers Bizarre,
Radio Birdman,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Tres Demented,
Dennis Brown,
Howard Jones,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Adolescents,
Harmonia,
Sight & Sound,
Aswad,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Saccharine Trust,
A Certain Ratio,
Malaria!,
Juan Atkins,
Second Layer,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Busters,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Erykah Badu,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Stooges,
Pagans,
The Smoke,
Porter Ricks,
Urselle,
The New Christs,
Groovy Waters,
Brand Nubian,
Crispian St. Peters,
Arthur Verocai,
F. McDonald,
Angry Samoans,
Pulsallama,
E-Dancer,
One Last Wish,
Pierre Henry,
Carl Craig,
Harry Pussy,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.