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 Swaziland and from Shanghai.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Angels of Light to the rock 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Jandek tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pussy Galore record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jerry Gold Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kurtis Blow,
The Divine Comedy,
Young Marble Giants,
Boz Scaggs,
Derrick May,
Das Ding,
The J.B.'s,
the Germs,
Marcia Griffiths,
Andrew Hill,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Mantronix,
Don Cherry,
Black Pus,
Godley & Creme,
Con Funk Shun,
Black Flag,
Kerri Chandler,
PIL,
The Martian,
Tres Demented,
Traffic Nightmare,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Slits,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Desert Stars,
Gang of Four,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Soft Machine,
Public Enemy,
Arab on Radar,
The Red Krayola,
The Saints,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
China Crisis,
Minnie Riperton,
Faust,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Deakin,
The Pop Group,
The Fuzztones,
Charles Mingus,
Loose Ends,
Pantytec,
Roxy Music,
Ultimate Spinach,
Juan Atkins,
Lebanon Hanover,
Pylon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Robert Görl,
JFA,
Bobby Womack,
The Walker Brothers,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tubeway Army,
The Grass Roots,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.