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 Dominican Republic and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Zapp to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All The Mummies tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Tropical Tobacco,
Anthony Braxton,
Scion,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Johnny Clarke,
Sun City Girls,
Urselle,
Byron Stingily,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Barbara Tucker,
The Fortunes,
Harmonia,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Marvin Gaye,
Desert Stars,
Roxette,
The Flesh Eaters,
Amon Düül,
Khruangbin,
ABC,
Chris & Cosey,
The Toasters,
Danielle Patucci,
Amazonics,
Ice-T,
KRS-One,
Young Marble Giants,
Sister Nancy,
Pantaleimon,
Eric Dolphy,
Animal Collective,
Terry Callier,
Subhumans,
K-Klass,
Erasure,
Hot Snakes,
Bill Wells,
Jacob Miller,
World's Most,
Au Pairs,
Scott Walker,
Mad Mike,
kango's stein massive,
Bad Manners,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Cowsills,
Lungfish,
Talk Talk,
Mandrill,
Pagans,
The Litter,
Johnny Osbourne,
Ronnie Foster,
Lou Reed,
Marshall Jefferson,
A Certain Ratio,
Kerri Chandler,
Wasted Youth,
Eve St. Jones,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.