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 South Africa and from Delhi.
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 1963 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 Ronnie Foster to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra Arkestra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Inner City,
Wolf Eyes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Suicide,
Piero Umiliani,
Jeff Mills,
Interpol,
Ultimate Spinach,
AZ,
Quando Quango,
8 Eyed Spy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scrapy,
Blake Baxter,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ken Boothe,
Marcia Griffiths,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Normal,
Skaos,
Joensuu 1685,
The United States of America,
Funkadelic,
Quantec,
The Last Poets,
John Cale,
Television,
Livin' Joy,
Can,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Gun Club,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Faraquet,
Deadbeat,
Average White Band,
Kurtis Blow,
Chrome,
Alton Ellis,
Jacques Brel,
Cluster,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gastr Del Sol,
Minnie Riperton,
The Grass Roots,
Los Fastidios,
Rotary Connection,
Radiopuhelimet,
PIL,
Althea and Donna,
the Soft Cell,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scan 7,
Crash Course in Science,
Sound Behaviour,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
the Human League,
Jeru the Damaja,
Swans,
Skarface,
China Crisis,
The Misunderstood,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.