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 Netherlands and from Manchester.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Holger Czukay 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 Gil Scott Heron to the jazz kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick May record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
JFA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Rosa Yemen,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Parry Music,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Fugs,
Byron Stingily,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Spandau Ballet,
Flipper,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Subhumans,
The Index,
Franke,
Hasil Adkins,
Black Flag,
X-Ray Spex,
Yusef Lateef,
Desert Stars,
Harry Pussy,
Talk Talk,
The J.B.'s,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Pierre Henry,
Delta 5,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Joy Division,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Alison Limerick,
Oneida,
Marc Almond,
Wasted Youth,
The Barracudas,
Crooked Eye,
Model 500,
Shuggie Otis,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeff Lynne,
The Last Poets,
Dennis Brown,
DJ Sneak,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sonic Youth,
Derrick Morgan,
Pere Ubu,
The Smiths,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jandek,
Public Enemy,
Max Romeo,
The Golliwogs,
Rod Modell,
Archie Shepp,
Kenny Larkin,
OOIOO,
Brothers Johnson,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.