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 Jamaica and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 theremin 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 Lalann to the grunge 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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
John Coltrane,
Blake Baxter,
The Black Dice,
The Leaves,
Moebius,
The Litter,
Amazonics,
Arab on Radar,
Hashim,
The American Breed,
Stereo Dub,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sister Nancy,
Girls At Our Best!,
H. Thieme,
The Moody Blues,
The Star Department,
Half Japanese,
Bronski Beat,
Neu!,
Faraquet,
Black Pus,
Eric B and Rakim,
China Crisis,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Country Teasers,
Black Flag,
Throbbing Gristle,
Desert Stars,
Blancmange,
Pantaleimon,
Hot Snakes,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Con Funk Shun,
Eve St. Jones,
Youth Brigade,
Prince Buster,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Michelle Simonal,
The Techniques,
Anthony Braxton,
Arthur Verocai,
John Foxx,
The Selecter,
Godley & Creme,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Yusef Lateef,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Donny Hathaway,
Nirvana,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Fortunes,
The Seeds,
A Certain Ratio,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Freddie Wadling,
The Mummies,
Max Romeo,
Minnie Riperton,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.