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 Bangladesh and from Hong Kong.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 oboe 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 Angry Samoans to the funk 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 Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan. All the underground hits.
All Larry & the Blue Notes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Carl Craig,
Bill Near,
the Swans,
Pole,
Cymande,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
CMW,
ABC,
The Blackbyrds,
Faraquet,
Marmalade,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Moody Blues,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The New Christs,
Cluster,
T. Rex,
Sällskapet,
Duran Duran,
The Doors,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Black Flag,
Todd Rundgren,
The Beau Brummels,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Steve Hackett,
Marine Girls,
Moby Grape,
Swans,
The Tremeloes,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Saccharine Trust,
Rekid,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
June of 44,
the Germs,
The Fire Engines,
Henry Cow,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bad Manners,
Grandmaster Flash,
FM Einheit,
Mr. Review,
The Cramps,
Brick,
Bluetip,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Bill Wells,
Can,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fall,
Jimmy McGriff,
Marcia Griffiths,
Blancmange,
The Trojans,
Suicide,
Franke,
Kerri Chandler,
Section 25,
Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon, Moss Icon.
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.