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 Congo and from Mumbai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Mistral show in Amsterdam.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Duran Duran to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Jeru the Damaja tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Inner City,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The New Christs,
a-ha,
Urselle,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fall,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Monolake,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Moody Blues,
Soft Cell,
The Fire Engines,
The Gun Club,
Sight & Sound,
The Barracudas,
Rapeman,
Trumans Water,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Dave Gahan,
Don Cherry,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Freddie Wadling,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Aswad,
Guru Guru,
The Durutti Column,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Matthew Halsall,
Grey Daturas,
Subhumans,
Index,
Hoover,
The Offenders,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Tomorrow,
Groovy Waters,
Aloha Tigers,
The Dead C,
Sound Behaviour,
Ultra Naté,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Wake,
Slick Rick,
The Busters,
Joy Division,
Television,
Royal Trux,
Rotary Connection,
Essential Logic,
Gang of Four,
Siglo XX,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Knickerbockers,
Terry Callier,
Accadde A,
Bad Manners,
Joe Finger,
John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx, John Foxx.
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.