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 Germany and from Edmonton.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Milan.
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 organ 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 Rod Modell to the grunge 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 Eric Dolphy. All the underground hits.
All Vainqueur tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 an oboe and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Velvet Underground,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Blackbyrds,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Robert Wyatt,
Marmalade,
Los Fastidios,
Can,
Brothers Johnson,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Beau Brummels,
Excepter,
JFA,
The Residents,
Icehouse,
Boz Scaggs,
EPMD,
Gang of Four,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Starr,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Depeche Mode,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Slave,
Khruangbin,
Royal Trux,
The Durutti Column,
Harpers Bizarre,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Arcadia,
The Victims,
Reuben Wilson,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Saints,
June of 44,
The Shadows of Knight,
Blancmange,
Cecil Taylor,
Ohio Players,
Darondo,
Desert Stars,
Pharoah Sanders,
Surgeon,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Kerri Chandler,
Bauhaus,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Funkadelic,
Dead Boys,
Drive Like Jehu,
Moss Icon,
Quantec,
Absolute Body Control,
Technova,
Minor Threat,
Brick,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Schoolly D,
B.T. Express,
Freddie Wadling,
Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen, Minutemen.
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.