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 Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 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 Icehouse to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Roy Ayers Ubiquity tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eli Mardock record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Letta Mbulu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sandy B,
John Holt,
the Normal,
Marcia Griffiths,
Tubeway Army,
Infiniti,
Todd Rundgren,
Con Funk Shun,
Oneida,
Outsiders,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Nirvana,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Guru Guru,
The J.B.'s,
Sound Behaviour,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Selecter,
This Heat,
Barbara Tucker,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Public Image Ltd.,
Severed Heads,
Gang Starr,
Glambeats Corp.,
Throbbing Gristle,
Alison Limerick,
Barry Ungar,
48th St. Collective,
Ice-T,
Scan 7,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Rites of Spring,
Blancmange,
Banda Bassotti,
Second Layer,
Henry Cow,
The Electric Prunes,
Circle Jerks,
Bob Dylan,
PIL,
Vainqueur,
Angry Samoans,
Reagan Youth,
Kurtis Blow,
Los Fastidios,
Fugazi,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ludus,
ABC,
Funky Four + One,
Spoonie Gee,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Fluxion,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.