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 Uruguay and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe 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 Fela Kuti to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grauzone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 chamberlin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Section 25,
Wings,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Monks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Simply Red,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Aural Exciters,
Rapeman,
U.S. Maple,
The Walker Brothers,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Joensuu 1685,
Roger Hodgson,
Quadrant,
Ten City,
the Normal,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Gong,
Bootsy Collins,
The Pop Group,
Stetsasonic,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Soft Cell,
Bad Manners,
Television Personalities,
Rod Modell,
The New Christs,
Faust,
Skaos,
LL Cool J,
Judy Mowatt,
Swans,
The Stooges,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Sound,
Ralphi Rosario,
Pantaleimon,
Model 500,
Laurel Aitken,
Smog,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bush Tetras,
Mad Mike,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
David Axelrod,
Radiopuhelimet,
Sun Ra,
Al Stewart,
Excepter,
Lightning Bolt,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Delta 5,
Barrington Levy,
Talk Talk,
These Immortal Souls,
Iggy Pop,
Second Layer,
B.T. Express,
This Heat, This Heat, This Heat, This Heat.
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.