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 Tonga and from London.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Monolake to the grime kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lalann. All the underground hits.
All Von Mondo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Con Funk Shun,
The Fire Engines,
The Velvet Underground,
Eddi Front,
Aural Exciters,
Pulsallama,
Flipper,
The Dirtbombs,
The Star Department,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Sheep,
Aaron Thompson,
Pierre Henry,
The Motions,
June of 44,
Desert Stars,
Derrick May,
Jimmy McGriff,
E-Dancer,
Howard Jones,
The Smoke,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Eric Dolphy,
Crime,
Matthew Halsall,
The Residents,
Nik Kershaw,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Grandmaster Flash,
Moebius,
Wolf Eyes,
the Normal,
Gichy Dan,
James Chance & The Contortions,
F. McDonald,
Mr. Review,
Robert Wyatt,
The Zeros,
Warsaw,
Vladislav Delay,
Yellowson,
Heaven 17,
Guru Guru,
Amon Düül II,
The Monks,
Spandau Ballet,
The Modern Lovers,
John Lydon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eric B and Rakim,
Delon & Dalcan,
Carl Craig,
Jandek,
Scan 7,
Colin Newman,
Erasure,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.