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 Germany and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Stereo Dub. All the underground hits.
All Shuggie Otis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ituana,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Tomorrow,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Motorama,
Gastr Del Sol,
Terrestrial Tones,
Anakelly,
Mandrill,
Spandau Ballet,
Magazine,
Qualms,
Pussy Galore,
cv313,
Hashim,
Ossler,
Scratch Acid,
Thompson Twins,
Gabor Szabo,
The Real Kids,
Scientists,
Blossom Toes,
Jeff Lynne,
Joyce Sims,
The Evens,
The Detroit Cobras,
kango's stein massive,
F. McDonald,
Amazonics,
Fela Kuti,
Soft Machine,
the Bar-Kays,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Five Americans,
Davy DMX,
The Alarm Clocks,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
China Crisis,
The Blackbyrds,
The Star Department,
U.S. Maple,
X-Ray Spex,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Mojo Men,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lucky Dragons,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Brass Construction,
Darondo,
Reagan Youth,
The Misunderstood,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nas,
Blake Baxter,
Harpers Bizarre,
Max Romeo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Niagra,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bobby Sherman,
Ultravox,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.