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 Djibouti and from Shanghai.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Ice-T to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rahsaan Roland Kirk 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Misunderstood record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Gil Scott Heron,
Liliput,
Darondo,
Scion,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Beau Brummels,
The Evens,
Lalann,
Steve Hackett,
Nik Kershaw,
Banda Bassotti,
Hashim,
CMW,
David Bowie,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Motions,
Minutemen,
Marshall Jefferson,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Kenny Larkin,
Pagans,
Crash Course in Science,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cluster,
June Days,
Vainqueur,
Scrapy,
Lindisfarne,
Don Cherry,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Underground Resistance,
Icehouse,
The Count Five,
Heaven 17,
Absolute Body Control,
The Mojo Men,
Groovy Waters,
Sound Behaviour,
Andrew Hill,
Bill Wells,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Arcadia,
Sonny Sharrock,
Fat Boys,
Drexciya,
Von Mondo,
the Association,
Bauhaus,
The Angels of Light,
Au Pairs,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Urselle,
Youth Brigade,
Carl Craig,
The Pop Group,
Eve St. Jones,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.