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 New Zealand 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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Faust to the rap 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All The Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Trojans record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Negative Approach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Das Ding,
Suicide,
The Selecter,
The J.B.'s,
Yaz,
The Misunderstood,
Erykah Badu,
The Grass Roots,
Deadbeat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Josef K,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Joensuu 1685,
Excepter,
New Order,
CMW,
Andrew Hill,
Todd Terry,
Symarip,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Liliput,
The Flesh Eaters,
Fela Kuti,
The Blackbyrds,
Harpers Bizarre,
Vainqueur,
Joe Finger,
the Germs,
Accadde A,
Neu!,
10cc,
Cheater Slicks,
Boredoms,
Metal Thangz,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Godley & Creme,
Mr. Review,
Byron Stingily,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Al Stewart,
Ohio Players,
Rufus Thomas,
Lebanon Hanover,
Laurel Aitken,
Surgeon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Johnny Osbourne,
Bobby Womack,
Sound Behaviour,
The Vogues,
Alton Ellis,
Monolake,
Livin' Joy,
Depeche Mode,
Gang Starr,
The Count Five,
Bill Near,
Wolf Eyes,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.