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 Jamaica and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Glasgow.
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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Arab on Radar to the grime kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Harmonia. All the underground hits.
All Dead Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Vladislav Delay,
The Count Five,
the Fania All-Stars,
Underground Resistance,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Gang Gang Dance,
Suicide,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Gladiators,
The Index,
Jeff Mills,
Bobby Womack,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Fortunes,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Vainqueur,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
F. McDonald,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Mummies,
Janne Schatter,
Popol Vuh,
Nirvana,
Black Moon,
Organ,
Andrew Hill,
The Mojo Men,
Johnny Clarke,
Tears for Fears,
Aswad,
The Dead C,
Bang On A Can,
Niagra,
Brick,
Tubeway Army,
Joy Division,
Angry Samoans,
The Remains,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Seeds,
The Cramps,
Deadbeat,
Mandrill,
Crooked Eye,
Barclay James Harvest,
Section 25,
Isaac Hayes,
Sixth Finger,
Oblivians,
The Dave Clark Five,
the Association,
Simply Red,
KRS-One,
Magazine,
The Misunderstood,
Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle, Throbbing Gristle.
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.