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 Bahamas and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 June of 44 to the rock 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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sam Rivers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonny Sharrock,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Toni Rubio,
China Crisis,
Black Flag,
Funkadelic,
Skaos,
Colin Newman,
The Skatalites,
Essential Logic,
Sex Pistols,
The Tremeloes,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Doors,
Sparks,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tres Demented,
These Immortal Souls,
The Angels of Light,
The Barracudas,
U.S. Maple,
Yellowson,
Procol Harum,
The Cramps,
Blancmange,
Goldenarms,
Jacques Brel,
Warren Ellis,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tropical Tobacco,
Agitation Free,
Donald Byrd,
The Kinks,
Eli Mardock,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
EPMD,
David Axelrod,
Maleditus Sound,
Bizarre Inc.,
Andrew Hill,
Eric Dolphy,
Lucky Dragons,
Darondo,
Rekid,
Ten City,
Faraquet,
Eden Ahbez,
Lou Christie,
Laurel Aitken,
Swans,
The Knickerbockers,
Sister Nancy,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rapeman,
the Soft Cell,
Drexciya,
Glambeats Corp.,
Cal Tjader,
The Moleskins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Rakim,
Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance, Crispy Ambulance.
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.