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 East Timor and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1978.
I was there at the first Visage 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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Last Poets to the grunge 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eden Ahbez record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fela Kuti,
The Kinks,
Unwound,
The Durutti Column,
The Fuzztones,
Don Cherry,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Buckinghams,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sonic Youth,
Blancmange,
The Slits,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Gabor Szabo,
Fatback Band,
Easy Going,
D'Angelo,
Barry Ungar,
The Saints,
Godley & Creme,
Minnie Riperton,
New Order,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Anakelly,
Janne Schatter,
Toni Rubio,
Hashim,
Ituana,
Von Mondo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Moby Grape,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Slackers,
Gil Scott Heron,
Model 500,
Essential Logic,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bob Dylan,
Eric Copeland,
The Gories,
Japan,
Dawn Penn,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Erykah Badu,
Popol Vuh,
Pharoah Sanders,
In Retrospect,
Electric Prunes,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Colin Newman,
ABBA,
PIL,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Fat Boys,
Mandrill,
Sam Rivers,
Todd Terry,
Circle Jerks,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
A Certain Ratio,
Organ,
Oneida,
June Days,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.