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 Mozambique and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 cv313 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 Carl Craig. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Drive Like Jehu,
Mr. Review,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Loose Ends,
Don Cherry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Soulsonic Force,
Byron Stingily,
Godley & Creme,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Radiohead,
Moby Grape,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Archie Shepp,
Angry Samoans,
Bootsy Collins,
Silicon Teens,
The Monochrome Set,
ABBA,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Marmalade,
Ronnie Foster,
Josef K,
Joyce Sims,
Monks,
Organ,
Duran Duran,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ituana,
Japan,
cv313,
F. McDonald,
Smog,
Rod Modell,
Ultra Naté,
Erasure,
The Seeds,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Black Pus,
X-102,
David McCallum,
Bobbi Humphrey,
T. Rex,
Radio Birdman,
Kenny Larkin,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Grauzone,
Thee Headcoats,
New York Dolls,
Hoover,
Tubeway Army,
Lyres,
The Happenings,
Matthew Bourne,
Mad Mike,
Carl Craig,
Bill Near,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.