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 Papua New Guinea 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Rites of Spring to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Goldenarms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stetsasonic record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
L. Decosne,
Wally Richardson,
Pulsallama,
Malaria!,
Maurizio,
Susan Cadogan,
Rakim,
KRS-One,
Bang On A Can,
Joy Division,
EPMD,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Traffic Nightmare,
Bill Near,
Sun Ra,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Smoke,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
8 Eyed Spy,
Agitation Free,
Yellowson,
The Pretty Things,
the Slits,
X-102,
Patti Smith,
Procol Harum,
Joey Negro,
Alice Coltrane,
Reuben Wilson,
David McCallum,
The Selecter,
JFA,
Brick,
Rosa Yemen,
The Moody Blues,
The Detroit Cobras,
Harpers Bizarre,
B.T. Express,
Newcleus,
Fugazi,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Alison Limerick,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Leaves,
Scion,
The Index,
Saccharine Trust,
Johnny Osbourne,
Royal Trux,
Henry Cow,
The Knickerbockers,
Tomorrow,
Boredoms,
John Foxx,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sixth Finger,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.