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 Korea South and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba 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 Joy Division to the disco 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 Tommy Roe. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brothers Johnson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a B.T. Express record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Soul II Soul,
Rapeman,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Ohio Players,
John Holt,
Minor Threat,
The Move,
Lungfish,
Scientists,
Anakelly,
Marvin Gaye,
Black Pus,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Amon Düül II,
T.S.O.L.,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Inner City,
Scott Walker,
The Skatalites,
Schoolly D,
The Beau Brummels,
Ossler,
Agitation Free,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Gun Club,
The Music Machine,
Circle Jerks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dead Boys,
New Age Steppers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pulsallama,
The Mojo Men,
Erasure,
Faraquet,
Marcia Griffiths,
Suicide,
The Monochrome Set,
Don Cherry,
Crispian St. Peters,
Deadbeat,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Wake,
Aural Exciters,
Pantaleimon,
Darondo,
Accadde A,
Arab on Radar,
Susan Cadogan,
David Bowie,
John Lydon,
Shuggie Otis,
the Swans,
Technova,
The Blues Magoos,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Zeros,
Los Fastidios,
X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex, X-Ray Spex.
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.