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 Saudi Arabia and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe 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 Bill Near to the funk 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 The Fuzztones. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Clarke tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Saints record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sandy B record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fortunes,
Throbbing Gristle,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Depeche Mode,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Stereo Dub,
Cheater Slicks,
Quando Quango,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Index,
Nik Kershaw,
AZ,
Accadde A,
Aural Exciters,
Suicide,
Bang On A Can,
Funkadelic,
Soulsonic Force,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rites of Spring,
Soul II Soul,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Jeru the Damaja,
Pulsallama,
Von Mondo,
Girls At Our Best!,
In Retrospect,
The Toasters,
The Red Krayola,
The Grass Roots,
Make Up,
Inner City,
cv313,
Franke,
Neu!,
Radio Birdman,
Little Man,
The Sonics,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Nation of Ulysses,
Niagra,
Ken Boothe,
Monolake,
The Music Machine,
Lungfish,
Pierre Henry,
Tommy Roe,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Real Kids,
Chris Corsano,
The Blackbyrds,
F. McDonald,
Crispian St. Peters,
KRS-One,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Bluetip,
Desert Stars,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Brick,
June Days,
Pharoah Sanders,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.