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 Serbia and from Jakarta.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Calgary.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Q65 to the rap 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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Eric Dolphy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fugs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Charles Mingus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Robert Görl,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Vladislav Delay,
Porter Ricks,
Hashim,
Graham Central Station,
The Blackbyrds,
Procol Harum,
Depeche Mode,
Ituana,
Judy Mowatt,
Swell Maps,
The Flesh Eaters,
Howard Jones,
Tubeway Army,
Joy Division,
Minutemen,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
John Holt,
Joyce Sims,
Youth Brigade,
John Cale,
The Divine Comedy,
The Monks,
The Walker Brothers,
The Victims,
Dark Day,
The Moody Blues,
The Sound,
Wally Richardson,
Blake Baxter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pierre Henry,
The Remains,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Quadrant,
The Sonics,
Erykah Badu,
Warren Ellis,
Danielle Patucci,
Loose Ends,
Ken Boothe,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Happenings,
Alton Ellis,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Japan,
The Gap Band,
Brothers Johnson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Hardrive,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Alphaville,
Yazoo,
Jerry's Kids,
Anthony Braxton,
Crooked Eye,
Pere Ubu,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.