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 Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 John Holt to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Man Parrish. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Seeds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kenny Larkin,
Adolescents,
Brand Nubian,
Throbbing Gristle,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Quando Quango,
Schoolly D,
Eden Ahbez,
Crooked Eye,
Joyce Sims,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Arab on Radar,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
ABC,
Scratch Acid,
Can,
Man Parrish,
Das Ding,
One Last Wish,
T.S.O.L.,
Siglo XX,
Dark Day,
Laurel Aitken,
Glenn Branca,
The Fall,
Jacques Brel,
Aural Exciters,
Rekid,
Eurythmics,
The Sound,
Soft Cell,
F. McDonald,
Nico,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Cymande,
Big Daddy Kane,
JFA,
Saccharine Trust,
Erasure,
The Fuzztones,
Neil Young,
Letta Mbulu,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Michelle Simonal,
David Axelrod,
The Misunderstood,
Girls At Our Best!,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
OOIOO,
Mission of Burma,
H. Thieme,
The Seeds,
Soulsonic Force,
The Red Krayola,
The Fire Engines,
Black Sheep,
Pharoah Sanders,
Charles Mingus,
Peter & Gordon,
Moebius,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip, Bluetip.
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.