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 Mongolia and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 808 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gerry Rafferty. All the underground hits.
All Maleditus Sound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispy Ambulance 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Pere Ubu,
the Normal,
Isaac Hayes,
Ten City,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
New Order,
the Germs,
Rekid,
Minnie Riperton,
Barry Ungar,
Brothers Johnson,
Whodini,
Cal Tjader,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Human League,
Susan Cadogan,
DJ Sneak,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Severed Heads,
Fat Boys,
The Residents,
Patti Smith,
Blancmange,
Excepter,
Sällskapet,
Livin' Joy,
Y Pants,
Fatback Band,
Subhumans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Avey Tare,
Warsaw,
Dark Day,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kas Product,
Carl Craig,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Camberwell Now,
Clear Light,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Black Bananas,
Amazonics,
Echospace,
Wally Richardson,
Television,
X-101,
The Fall,
Main Source,
Surgeon,
The Grass Roots,
The Star Department,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Offenders,
Mandrill,
Rod Modell,
Wolf Eyes,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jeru the Damaja,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.