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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Milan.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
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 Roy Ayers to the jazz 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 The Slits. All the underground hits.
All Minnie Riperton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ludus,
Hot Snakes,
Lou Christie,
The Shadows of Knight,
Marc Almond,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Max Romeo,
Popol Vuh,
Henry Cow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Albert Ayler,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nation of Ulysses,
Depeche Mode,
Eli Mardock,
Jeff Mills,
Parry Music,
Public Enemy,
Panda Bear,
Yusef Lateef,
Audionom,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mission of Burma,
Peter and Kerry,
Fluxion,
Alice Coltrane,
The Gun Club,
48th St. Collective,
Sällskapet,
the Slits,
Malaria!,
Monks,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Moby Grape,
The Misunderstood,
Scientists,
Los Fastidios,
Maleditus Sound,
The Standells,
China Crisis,
The Beau Brummels,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
H. Thieme,
Erasure,
Unwound,
Soft Machine,
Iggy Pop,
The Martian,
Mars,
Zapp,
Young Marble Giants,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Radio Birdman,
Whodini,
Banda Bassotti,
Lucky Dragons,
In Retrospect,
Deadbeat,
Urselle,
New Order, New Order, New Order, New Order.
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.