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 Ethiopia and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Talk Talk to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jesper Dahlback,
The Litter,
Pharoah Sanders,
Pere Ubu,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Max Romeo,
Colin Newman,
Sonic Youth,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ludus,
Wolf Eyes,
Crime,
Animal Collective,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Durutti Column,
Terry Callier,
Faraquet,
Siglo XX,
Crash Course in Science,
John Lydon,
Bang On A Can,
Slave,
Minor Threat,
X-101,
Con Funk Shun,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
the Sonics,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Doors,
Sam Rivers,
The Wake,
Cameo,
Johnny Clarke,
Camouflage,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Bobby Womack,
The Tremeloes,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Interpol,
Johnny Osbourne,
Urselle,
Goldenarms,
Hasil Adkins,
The Mummies,
the Fania All-Stars,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Livin' Joy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gastr Del Sol,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Happenings,
The Neon Judgement,
Funkadelic,
Saccharine Trust,
Joe Smooth,
Mantronix,
FM Einheit,
Public Enemy,
Inner City, Inner City, Inner City, Inner City.
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.