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 Libya and from Paris.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 H. Thieme 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 La Düsseldorf. All the underground hits.
All Jawbox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Justin Hinds & The Dominoes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Trumans Water,
Blossom Toes,
Minny Pops,
Soul II Soul,
D'Angelo,
The Names,
Mandrill,
Robert Görl,
Sugar Minott,
Fluxion,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Donald Byrd,
Sun City Girls,
Wasted Youth,
Pierre Henry,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Joe Smooth,
The Searchers,
Maleditus Sound,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Niagra,
Jeff Lynne,
Stiv Bators,
Kurtis Blow,
The Doors,
The New Christs,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pulsallama,
The Zeros,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Associates,
Monolake,
Gang Starr,
Minnie Riperton,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Television,
Anakelly,
Mission of Burma,
Eric B and Rakim,
Johnny Clarke,
Siglo XX,
Gabor Szabo,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wally Richardson,
The Misunderstood,
The Sonics,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Jeff Mills,
Henry Cow,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Tomorrow,
The Alarm Clocks,
Scion,
Infiniti,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Reuben Wilson,
Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins, Thompson Twins.
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.