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 Eritrea 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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Judy Mowatt to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Names record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
The Cowsills,
Black Flag,
The Neon Judgement,
Marcia Griffiths,
Yazoo,
Jeru the Damaja,
Barrington Levy,
Arcadia,
Lalann,
Section 25,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Circle Jerks,
Lyres,
L. Decosne,
Cluster,
Joy Division,
The Fire Engines,
Girls At Our Best!,
Derrick May,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultra Naté,
Skarface,
The Gladiators,
David Bowie,
A Certain Ratio,
June of 44,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
China Crisis,
Scientists,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fear,
Bush Tetras,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Hoover,
DJ Style,
cv313,
Moebius,
The Divine Comedy,
The Mummies,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Matthew Bourne,
Carl Craig,
Albert Ayler,
Lee Hazlewood,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Golliwogs,
Suicide,
Franke,
the Swans,
The Victims,
Archie Shepp,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Janne Schatter,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Michelle Simonal,
Inner City,
Peter and Kerry,
Bobby Byrd,
Soul II Soul,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols, Sex Pistols.
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.