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 Colombia and from Woodstock.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Yaz to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Organ record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Moby Grape,
Yusef Lateef,
Gong,
Half Japanese,
The Red Krayola,
Donald Byrd,
Dead Boys,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Altered Images,
LL Cool J,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Five Americans,
Matthew Halsall,
Bob Dylan,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Basic Channel,
The Durutti Column,
Brick,
Icehouse,
Nik Kershaw,
Clear Light,
Jandek,
Adolescents,
Derrick May,
Kerrie Biddell,
Infiniti,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
World's Most,
The Offenders,
Lakeside,
Peter & Gordon,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Country Teasers,
ABC,
Sun Ra,
Sparks,
Bizarre Inc.,
UT,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Camberwell Now,
Quadrant,
Qualms,
Alphaville,
The Cowsills,
The Barracudas,
X-101,
Barry Ungar,
DJ Style,
Minnie Riperton,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Remains,
Mark Hollis,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Aaron Thompson,
Vainqueur,
Marc Almond,
Danielle Patucci,
Oblivians,
Throbbing Gristle,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.