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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Dorothy Ashby to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Niagra. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kings Of Tomorrow 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Dirtbombs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Angry Samoans,
Rhythm & Sound,
Magma,
Sam Rivers,
Blossom Toes,
Wolf Eyes,
Suburban Knight,
The Young Rascals,
Piero Umiliani,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Man Eating Sloth,
Minor Threat,
Yellowson,
Terrestrial Tones,
New York Dolls,
Cymande,
Reuben Wilson,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Remains,
DJ Sneak,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Index,
The Last Poets,
Dawn Penn,
Malaria!,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jerry's Kids,
Dennis Brown,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lightning Bolt,
Jacques Brel,
The Skatalites,
Morten Harket,
The Knickerbockers,
Swans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Procol Harum,
Cluster,
Mission of Burma,
Surgeon,
Joey Negro,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fela Kuti,
Mantronix,
Ronan,
The Techniques,
Kerri Chandler,
Chris Corsano,
Sun Ra,
Deakin,
MDC,
Bush Tetras,
Moss Icon,
Swell Maps,
Model 500,
Groovy Waters,
Lower 48,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Pulsallama,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.