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 Panama and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 oboe 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 Jesper Dahlbäck to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sly & The Family Stone record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
ABBA,
Warsaw,
Black Sheep,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Vladislav Delay,
Alison Limerick,
Archie Shepp,
Pharoah Sanders,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Malaria!,
Technova,
Lalann,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roy Ayers,
Gabor Szabo,
Wally Richardson,
The Evens,
David Axelrod,
Alice Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken,
Electric Prunes,
Davy DMX,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Lower 48,
Gregory Isaacs,
Joey Negro,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Tom Boy,
Ossler,
Reuben Wilson,
Easy Going,
Circle Jerks,
The Cowsills,
Gichy Dan,
OOIOO,
Pantaleimon,
The Standells,
Ornette Coleman,
Delta 5,
The Skatalites,
Liliput,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Modern Lovers,
Subhumans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Techniques,
Chris & Cosey,
Michelle Simonal,
Sarah Menescal,
48th St. Collective,
Howard Jones,
The Angels of Light,
the Soft Cell,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Kinks,
T. Rex,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Nils Olav,
Marvin Gaye,
The Wake,
Ituana, Ituana, Ituana, Ituana.
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.