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 Togo and from Tehran.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the 808 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 Derrick May to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Aloha Tigers. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kurtis Blow record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
Franke,
Warsaw,
Blossom Toes,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cymande,
Harry Pussy,
Don Cherry,
Flipper,
X-Ray Spex,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Black Flag,
Alice Coltrane,
Rakim,
Kurtis Blow,
The Blackbyrds,
Lungfish,
Scion,
Whodini,
Con Funk Shun,
Matthew Halsall,
Isaac Hayes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Mission of Burma,
Aaron Thompson,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Clear Light,
Kaleidoscope,
Moss Icon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marc Almond,
Underground Resistance,
David McCallum,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Fall,
Sound Behaviour,
Fatback Band,
The Last Poets,
The Gap Band,
Niagra,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dawn Penn,
8 Eyed Spy,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Rhythm & Sound,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Funkadelic,
The Black Dice,
the Fania All-Stars,
PIL,
Brass Construction,
The Cowsills,
Sister Nancy,
The Star Department,
Shoche,
Godley & Creme,
Susan Cadogan,
Man Eating Sloth,
Andrew Hill,
Boredoms,
The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs, The Fugs.
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.