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 Burundi and from New York.
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 Salvador and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dark Day to the grime kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Scratch Acid,
Quando Quango,
Arab on Radar,
The Vogues,
World's Most,
Tomorrow,
Soul II Soul,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Thompson Twins,
Buzzcocks,
KRS-One,
Japan,
Grauzone,
The Pretty Things,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Fortunes,
Letta Mbulu,
The Detroit Cobras,
Flipper,
Babytalk,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Half Japanese,
Gang Green,
Little Man,
Howard Jones,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Sixth Finger,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Move,
Angry Samoans,
The Barracudas,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Barrington Levy,
T. Rex,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Section 25,
The Happenings,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Depeche Mode,
The Raincoats,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Marmalade,
Graham Central Station,
The Mummies,
Panda Bear,
Young Marble Giants,
Anthony Braxton,
Cecil Taylor,
Harry Pussy,
Sarah Menescal,
Faust,
Eric Copeland,
Laurel Aitken,
Matthew Halsall,
Pierre Henry,
Juan Atkins,
Boogie Down Productions,
The United States of America,
DJ Sneak,
Eddi Front,
Bush Tetras,
This Heat,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.