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 Syria and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 marimba 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 Moebius to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All the Swans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bang On A Can,
Joensuu 1685,
48th St. Collective,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kaleidoscope,
Johnny Clarke,
Marc Almond,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Metal Thangz,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Kenny Larkin,
The Standells,
The Searchers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Erykah Badu,
Bob Dylan,
Soulsonic Force,
Pulsallama,
Delta 5,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Green,
Grandmaster Flash,
June Days,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Fluxion,
The Doors,
Unwound,
The Dirtbombs,
Model 500,
Crispian St. Peters,
Iggy Pop,
Scan 7,
Mars,
Vladislav Delay,
Jeff Lynne,
Patti Smith,
Barbara Tucker,
Mark Hollis,
Black Pus,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
John Cale,
Sex Pistols,
KRS-One,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ossler,
The Mojo Men,
Monks,
JFA,
B.T. Express,
The Selecter,
The Techniques,
The Slits,
Erasure,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Dead C,
Black Sheep,
Japan,
The Names,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Andrew Hill,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.