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 Guatemala and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 sitar 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 The Durutti Column 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Pulsallama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Selecter 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord 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 Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Reuben Wilson,
DJ Sneak,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lower 48,
Dawn Penn,
The Young Rascals,
Ultimate Spinach,
Warsaw,
H. Thieme,
Brass Construction,
Boredoms,
Fugazi,
China Crisis,
Lucky Dragons,
Suicide,
Absolute Body Control,
AZ,
Connie Case,
Bizarre Inc.,
Donald Byrd,
The Searchers,
Archie Shepp,
The Residents,
Bob Dylan,
Soul II Soul,
The Shadows of Knight,
Chris & Cosey,
Youth Brigade,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Camberwell Now,
Newcleus,
Rekid,
Altered Images,
Jeff Lynne,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Index,
Blancmange,
Sarah Menescal,
Matthew Halsall,
Section 25,
Con Funk Shun,
ABBA,
Banda Bassotti,
Oneida,
Jimmy McGriff,
Adolescents,
Kurtis Blow,
Oblivians,
Skaos,
The Grass Roots,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Victims,
Colin Newman,
D'Angelo,
Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!, Malaria!.
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.