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 Burundi and from New York.
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 1967 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 chamberlin 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 Gap Band to the grime 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 Popol Vuh. All the underground hits.
All The Detroit Cobras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every X-Ray Spex record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a EPMD record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Offenders,
the Swans,
The Grass Roots,
Sonny Sharrock,
Spandau Ballet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Scion,
Ituana,
Robert Görl,
Peter & Gordon,
Interpol,
World's Most,
Jandek,
The Fortunes,
Janne Schatter,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Godley & Creme,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Fire Engines,
Oneida,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fat Boys,
The Blackbyrds,
The Pop Group,
Soft Machine,
The Gun Club,
Pere Ubu,
Siglo XX,
Depeche Mode,
The Monochrome Set,
Mary Jane Girls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
T. Rex,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Barry Ungar,
Warsaw,
Suicide,
The Evens,
Camberwell Now,
Idris Muhammad,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Sonics,
Motorama,
Girls At Our Best!,
Eve St. Jones,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wolf Eyes,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
the Bar-Kays,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Blancmange,
Visage,
Marcia Griffiths,
Cabaret Voltaire,
K-Klass,
F. McDonald,
Connie Case,
The Techniques,
Black Flag,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.