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 Chile and from Mexico City.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Sao Paulo.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Prince Buster 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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Bang on a Can All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Boz Scaggs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dark Day record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Scientists,
Intrusion,
8 Eyed Spy,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Piero Umiliani,
Glenn Branca,
Pussy Galore,
Black Sheep,
D'Angelo,
Delta 5,
The Buckinghams,
June of 44,
Toni Rubio,
Suicide,
Brothers Johnson,
The Skatalites,
Accadde A,
Das Ding,
Brick,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Roger Hodgson,
Jawbox,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Smoke,
Brand Nubian,
Nation of Ulysses,
Black Flag,
Drexciya,
Kerri Chandler,
DJ Sneak,
Circle Jerks,
B.T. Express,
The J.B.'s,
Jandek,
Dual Sessions,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gabor Szabo,
the Swans,
The Litter,
Sparks,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Schoolly D,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wasted Youth,
Godley & Creme,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Simply Red,
Siglo XX,
Bluetip,
Juan Atkins,
Eden Ahbez,
Desert Stars,
The Star Department,
Icehouse,
Colin Newman,
David Bowie,
Grey Daturas,
Glambeats Corp.,
New Age Steppers,
Soul II Soul,
Grauzone,
Ronan,
the Germs, the Germs, the Germs, the Germs.
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.