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 Monaco and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Heaven 17 to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suburban Knight,
Donny Hathaway,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marvin Gaye,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Raincoats,
Jerry's Kids,
The Residents,
Roy Ayers,
Popol Vuh,
Wings,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sun Ra,
Sparks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Chris & Cosey,
Kerri Chandler,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Average White Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Erykah Badu,
The Wake,
Neil Young,
Talk Talk,
Ornette Coleman,
World's Most,
Underground Resistance,
Subhumans,
Graham Central Station,
LL Cool J,
Pierre Henry,
The Saints,
The Victims,
Trumans Water,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Inner City,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Monolake,
Lalo Schifrin,
Livin' Joy,
Infiniti,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Barrington Levy,
Sonic Youth,
Eric Copeland,
Echospace,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Magma,
PIL,
Unrelated Segments,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Pretty Things,
Dawn Penn,
Procol Harum,
Big Daddy Kane,
Deakin,
the Germs,
Surgeon,
D'Angelo,
Shoche,
The Sisters of Mercy,
ABC,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.