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 Burkina and from Toronto.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Khruangbin to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Icehouse,
Rekid,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pharoah Sanders,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Eric Dolphy,
Roy Ayers,
The Gladiators,
Matthew Halsall,
Make Up,
The Red Krayola,
Young Marble Giants,
Piero Umiliani,
The Victims,
Simply Red,
Stetsasonic,
Graham Central Station,
Donny Hathaway,
Roxy Music,
Pulsallama,
Groovy Waters,
Idris Muhammad,
Sexual Harrassment,
Fela Kuti,
Jerry's Kids,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amon Düül,
Excepter,
Robert Wyatt,
Iggy Pop,
Infiniti,
Malaria!,
Crooked Eye,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Joe Smooth,
Kerri Chandler,
The Monks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Tres Demented,
OOIOO,
Al Stewart,
Slave,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Thee Headcoats,
Scientists,
Faraquet,
Grauzone,
X-101,
Siglo XX,
Angry Samoans,
Glambeats Corp.,
Colin Newman,
Agitation Free,
Soft Machine,
Dorothy Ashby,
Matthew Bourne,
Minor Threat,
The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills, The Cowsills.
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.