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 Tunisia and from Beijing.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Delhi.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Jesper Dahlback to the disco 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 Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Qualms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Crispian St. Peters,
Fatback Band,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Minny Pops,
Dual Sessions,
Babytalk,
Byron Stingily,
Scientists,
Prince Buster,
Eddi Front,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Avey Tare,
Ornette Coleman,
Ten City,
Franke,
Gang of Four,
Johnny Osbourne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Gregory Isaacs,
Public Enemy,
The Pretty Things,
Visage,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Moebius,
Suburban Knight,
New York Dolls,
Bluetip,
Intrusion,
U.S. Maple,
Howard Jones,
Warren Ellis,
Minutemen,
Althea and Donna,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Quantec,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Wake,
Susan Cadogan,
The Cowsills,
The Residents,
Loose Ends,
Radio Birdman,
Kenny Larkin,
Maleditus Sound,
Flash Fearless,
Bauhaus,
Adolescents,
Audionom,
Johnny Clarke,
Sugar Minott,
Rod Modell,
The Blackbyrds,
Dead Boys,
The Doobie Brothers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Motorama,
Quadrant,
Soulsonic Force,
Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger, Joe Finger.
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.