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 Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Scrapy to the rap 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 Suburban Knight. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every James Chance & The Contortions record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Public Enemy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Suburban Knight,
Echospace,
Television Personalities,
Lou Christie,
Slick Rick,
Cymande,
Icehouse,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Monks,
Tubeway Army,
The Blackbyrds,
Sixth Finger,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Tommy Roe,
Altered Images,
Q and Not U,
Ultra Naté,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Marine Girls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Don Cherry,
Outsiders,
One Last Wish,
Little Man,
The Count Five,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Fear,
Swans,
Nik Kershaw,
Ten City,
Metal Thangz,
Heaven 17,
Nation of Ulysses,
Neil Young,
The Modern Lovers,
Anakelly,
Throbbing Gristle,
Radio Birdman,
Wasted Youth,
Anthony Braxton,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Smog,
ABC,
Dennis Brown,
Tomorrow,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jeff Mills,
Agent Orange,
Lalann,
Skaos,
Popol Vuh,
Nico,
Schoolly D,
Zapp,
Gerry Rafferty,
China Crisis,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Rekid,
Swell Maps,
Whodini,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse, Neil Young & Crazy Horse.
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.