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 Indonesia and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Hong Kong.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Moody Blues to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Slackers. All the underground hits.
All Cybotron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Juan Atkins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pierre Henry,
Gang of Four,
Andrew Hill,
Warsaw,
Angry Samoans,
The Birthday Party,
The Offenders,
Severed Heads,
Black Pus,
The American Breed,
Todd Terry,
Nik Kershaw,
Lindisfarne,
the Slits,
Youth Brigade,
H. Thieme,
John Cale,
Monks,
E-Dancer,
Peter and Kerry,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Mojo Men,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gabor Szabo,
Pulsallama,
Moebius,
The Gap Band,
Iggy Pop,
The Kinks,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Saints,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sun Ra,
Bobby Womack,
Absolute Body Control,
Technova,
Harmonia,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Ornette Coleman,
Carl Craig,
Mad Mike,
The Modern Lovers,
Joey Negro,
Idris Muhammad,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Pop Group,
Tropical Tobacco,
Leonard Cohen,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Victims,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Trumans Water,
Desert Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
Connie Case,
The Moleskins,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Motions,
David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod, David Axelrod.
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.