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 United Kingdom and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Kerrie Biddell 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Susan Cadogan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Curtis Mayfield 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?
Metal Thangz,
Robert Hood,
Section 25,
Brass Construction,
Agent Orange,
Bad Manners,
Flipper,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Wake,
Kevin Saunderson,
Gastr Del Sol,
John Foxx,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
UT,
Moby Grape,
The Evens,
Eric Dolphy,
Bob Dylan,
David Bowie,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Cecil Taylor,
Scientists,
Henry Cow,
China Crisis,
Bobby Byrd,
Morten Harket,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The New Christs,
Nas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Brothers Johnson,
Jacob Miller,
Jesper Dahlback,
Von Mondo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Royal Trux,
U.S. Maple,
The American Breed,
Theoretical Girls,
Buzzcocks,
Sun City Girls,
Public Image Ltd.,
Skaos,
Shuggie Otis,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sparks,
The Electric Prunes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Loose Ends,
Smog,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kayak,
Lower 48,
The Blues Magoos,
Gil Scott Heron,
Alice Coltrane,
Eli Mardock,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gang Starr,
Thee Headcoats,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.