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 Malta and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin 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 The Vogues to the disco 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 The Gladiators. All the underground hits.
All kango's stein massive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ajijia Myrayebe 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roxy Music,
The Monochrome Set,
The Dirtbombs,
Bill Wells,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Crime,
B.T. Express,
Cluster,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Sonics,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Birthday Party,
Deakin,
Urselle,
Smog,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Andrew Hill,
Essential Logic,
The Index,
KRS-One,
Aaron Thompson,
Fatback Band,
Carl Craig,
48th St. Collective,
Jeff Lynne,
The American Breed,
Barclay James Harvest,
Gang of Four,
The Fuzztones,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Whodini,
Marmalade,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Iggy Pop,
The Selecter,
Janne Schatter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Wings,
Tubeway Army,
Inner City,
Sight & Sound,
The Offenders,
The Count Five,
Yellowson,
Mantronix,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Accadde A,
New Order,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Sam Rivers,
The Real Kids,
Simply Red,
Girls At Our Best!,
Leonard Cohen,
The Grass Roots,
R.M.O.,
Matthew Bourne,
The Durutti Column,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.