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 Ethiopia and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Mummies to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 The Monks. All the underground hits.
All The Fuzztones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hasil Adkins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Dead C,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yusef Lateef,
The Doobie Brothers,
Fugazi,
Pulsallama,
T. Rex,
Tomorrow,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Seeds,
Faraquet,
Guru Guru,
the Germs,
Easy Going,
Soulsonic Force,
The Moody Blues,
Brass Construction,
Anakelly,
Average White Band,
Subhumans,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Cluster,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Ronan,
Whodini,
Ponytail,
Isaac Hayes,
Mad Mike,
Monolake,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deadbeat,
The Evens,
Parry Music,
10cc,
Fad Gadget,
The Birthday Party,
Severed Heads,
Glambeats Corp.,
Index,
Eric Dolphy,
Nick Fraelich,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ronnie Foster,
David McCallum,
Morten Harket,
Robert Wyatt,
Symarip,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Godley & Creme,
Adolescents,
Hasil Adkins,
Jacques Brel,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Move,
Eurythmics,
Popol Vuh,
The Techniques,
Minutemen,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.