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 Korea South and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Lightning Bolt to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aural Exciters 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Warren Ellis record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
The Sound,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Slits,
Anakelly,
Black Moon,
Robert Görl,
EPMD,
Eric Dolphy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Royal Trux,
F. McDonald,
Derrick May,
The Pop Group,
Sight & Sound,
D'Angelo,
Pylon,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Anthony Braxton,
Pet Shop Boys,
Danielle Patucci,
The Saints,
Skaos,
Rapeman,
Max Romeo,
Howard Jones,
Gang Green,
Whodini,
Con Funk Shun,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mars,
Monks,
Desert Stars,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Q and Not U,
John Cale,
Massinfluence,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Eve St. Jones,
Pantytec,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gabor Szabo,
The Martian,
Warren Ellis,
Main Source,
Delta 5,
Pussy Galore,
Ken Boothe,
Pole,
Dual Sessions,
Vladislav Delay,
The Happenings,
Skriet,
Subhumans,
Matthew Bourne,
The Birthday Party,
Magma,
Grauzone,
Tears for Fears,
ABBA,
Marine Girls,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.