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 Burkina and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 David Bowie 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 Erykah Badu to the electroclash 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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Smog record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Osbourne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Enemy,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Groovy Waters,
Inner City,
Rakim,
Joey Negro,
The Cowsills,
Dawn Penn,
Underground Resistance,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Techniques,
Spandau Ballet,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soulsonic Force,
Harmonia,
Scientists,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Remains,
Von Mondo,
ABC,
Josef K,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Brass Construction,
Dead Boys,
Cymande,
Arthur Verocai,
Pylon,
Albert Ayler,
Derrick May,
Make Up,
MC5,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Magazine,
Boredoms,
Gang of Four,
Fear,
Sexual Harrassment,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Arab on Radar,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Harry Pussy,
The Cure,
Kaleidoscope,
Max Romeo,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Massinfluence,
Roxette,
Junior Murvin,
Bobby Sherman,
New Order,
Erykah Badu,
Lakeside,
The Doors,
The Monks,
The Toasters,
The Offenders,
Soul Sonic Force,
Trumans Water,
Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt, Robert Wyatt.
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.