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 Turkey and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Urselle to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Scott Walker + Sunn O))). All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hardrive 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Con Funk Shun 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?
Khruangbin,
Chris Corsano,
Surgeon,
Roy Ayers,
Ken Boothe,
Newcleus,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Crispian St. Peters,
Public Enemy,
The Beau Brummels,
Derrick May,
The Gladiators,
Sun Ra,
Joe Finger,
Barclay James Harvest,
Davy DMX,
The Saints,
Aaron Thompson,
Junior Murvin,
Man Parrish,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
PIL,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kerri Chandler,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Pus,
Skarface,
Royal Trux,
Black Flag,
Howard Jones,
Sight & Sound,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Thee Headcoats,
Bill Near,
Letta Mbulu,
Eve St. Jones,
June Days,
Isaac Hayes,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Cosmic Jokers,
David Bowie,
Jerry's Kids,
Sällskapet,
Scion,
Mantronix,
Panda Bear,
Moss Icon,
Lower 48,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
F. McDonald,
Livin' Joy,
James White and The Blacks,
Deepchord,
The Dirtbombs,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lightning Bolt,
Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T, Ice-T.
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.