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 Yemen and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the theremin 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 F. McDonald 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 Barrington Levy. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a R.M.O. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pantaleimon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Masters at Work,
Quando Quango,
Wolf Eyes,
The Slits,
Panda Bear,
John Lydon,
Blossom Toes,
Marcia Griffiths,
Dual Sessions,
Country Teasers,
Pharoah Sanders,
Dead Boys,
Fad Gadget,
Slick Rick,
Ice-T,
Camberwell Now,
Gong,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Lou Christie,
Sällskapet,
Reagan Youth,
Sam Rivers,
The Modern Lovers,
The Golliwogs,
Agitation Free,
Animal Collective,
Agent Orange,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Litter,
Bootsy Collins,
Freddie Wadling,
Bad Manners,
Drexciya,
Junior Murvin,
Pagans,
Hoover,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Cal Tjader,
The Barracudas,
Nico,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Johnny Clarke,
Sight & Sound,
Matthew Halsall,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Con Funk Shun,
The Walker Brothers,
48th St. Collective,
Bronski Beat,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
June Days,
The Kinks,
Gabor Szabo,
Motorama,
Graham Central Station,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Zeros,
The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men, The Mojo Men.
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.