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 Mauritania and from Glasgow.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Scion to the dance 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 Bob Dylan. All the underground hits.
All Jacob Miller tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Moss Icon,
Roger Hodgson,
Ice-T,
Pantaleimon,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tears for Fears,
the Soft Cell,
Harry Pussy,
The Litter,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Thompson Twins,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Agitation Free,
The Dave Clark Five,
Thee Headcoats,
Hot Snakes,
Brand Nubian,
Barry Ungar,
The Five Americans,
James White and The Blacks,
Tres Demented,
Moby Grape,
Intrusion,
Barrington Levy,
Black Pus,
Goldenarms,
Siglo XX,
Toni Rubio,
The Young Rascals,
the Swans,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Star Department,
Amazonics,
H. Thieme,
Lungfish,
DJ Sneak,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Danielle Patucci,
The Skatalites,
Groovy Waters,
Black Flag,
Stockholm Monsters,
Johnny Clarke,
T.S.O.L.,
Davy DMX,
Andrew Hill,
Sound Behaviour,
Derrick Morgan,
The J.B.'s,
Matthew Bourne,
The Fuzztones,
Cheater Slicks,
Reagan Youth,
Vladislav Delay,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Victims,
Chris Corsano,
CMW,
The Busters, The Busters, The Busters, The Busters.
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.