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 Iraq and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Ice-T to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Faraquet. All the underground hits.
All Absolute Body Control tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Animal Collective record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Matthew Halsall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
The Beau Brummels,
Jesper Dahlback,
Mr. Review,
Johnny Clarke,
Rapeman,
The Zeros,
Skarface,
Rites of Spring,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Vladislav Delay,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Con Funk Shun,
Country Teasers,
Lyres,
The Raincoats,
New York Dolls,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
kango's stein massive,
Gang of Four,
Grey Daturas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fear,
Excepter,
Sällskapet,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bobby Hutcherson,
X-Ray Spex,
Sun Ra,
Curtis Mayfield,
Minnie Riperton,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Au Pairs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lucky Dragons,
Fugazi,
Roy Ayers,
Metal Thangz,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Skriet,
Rekid,
Mo-Dettes,
Peter & Gordon,
The Alarm Clocks,
Stiv Bators,
The Gladiators,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Fire Engines,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Mummies,
the Normal,
Chris Corsano,
The Velvet Underground,
Eddi Front,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Monks,
K-Klass,
The Cramps,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
a-ha, a-ha, a-ha, a-ha.
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.