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 Papua New Guinea and from Sao Paulo.
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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 The Doors to the grime 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 Pierre Henry. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mandrill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Kool Moe Dee,
LL Cool J,
Morten Harket,
Man Parrish,
the Sonics,
Robert Wyatt,
8 Eyed Spy,
Eddi Front,
X-101,
Bill Near,
Robert Hood,
Fat Boys,
Soft Machine,
OOIOO,
The Index,
Technova,
The Kinks,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Skarface,
The Move,
Freddie Wadling,
Roxy Music,
The Monks,
Black Bananas,
The Sound,
The Star Department,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Idris Muhammad,
The Fall,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Hashim,
Mark Hollis,
Chris Corsano,
Minutemen,
Kas Product,
Warsaw,
The Busters,
June Days,
Cecil Taylor,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Grass Roots,
Jacques Brel,
Blake Baxter,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
DJ Sneak,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Marvin Gaye,
Davy DMX,
48th St. Collective,
Subhumans,
Jesper Dahlback,
Essential Logic,
Ornette Coleman,
Derrick May,
Roy Ayers,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound, Maleditus Sound.
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.