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 Australia and from Cairo.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 marimba 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 Selector Dub Narcotic to the funk 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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Motions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Malaria! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
The Saints,
The Golliwogs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Agent Orange,
The Cramps,
Eric B and Rakim,
Gichy Dan,
Althea and Donna,
Magazine,
The Happenings,
Don Cherry,
Lower 48,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Graham Central Station,
Panda Bear,
Pere Ubu,
The American Breed,
PIL,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Trojans,
The Birthday Party,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Negative Approach,
Alton Ellis,
Ultra Naté,
The Barracudas,
Easy Going,
Cheater Slicks,
Ohio Players,
Echospace,
Quantec,
Archie Shepp,
Bauhaus,
Oblivians,
The Fugs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Godley & Creme,
Angry Samoans,
Rekid,
Neu!,
Black Pus,
Robert Görl,
World's Most,
The Fire Engines,
Fad Gadget,
The New Christs,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Symarip,
Cymande,
Joy Division,
Connie Case,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Wasted Youth,
Harpers Bizarre,
New York Dolls,
Wally Richardson,
Liliput,
The Martian,
The Monochrome Set,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry, Red Lorry Yellow Lorry.
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.