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 Luxembourg and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 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 Pulsallama to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Jerry's Kids. All the underground hits.
All The Blackbyrds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Don Cherry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Urselle,
Simply Red,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Moby Grape,
Grey Daturas,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Fire Engines,
The Toasters,
PIL,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Moebius,
Blossom Toes,
Girls At Our Best!,
David McCallum,
FM Einheit,
Sight & Sound,
Joensuu 1685,
The Pretty Things,
Dorothy Ashby,
Little Man,
Shoche,
Janne Schatter,
Supertramp,
The Knickerbockers,
Quando Quango,
the Bar-Kays,
Sixth Finger,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roxy Music,
Thee Headcoats,
Soft Machine,
The Selecter,
Index,
Jeff Mills,
Ponytail,
Quadrant,
Skaos,
The Tremeloes,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
T. Rex,
Soft Cell,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ronnie Foster,
Sister Nancy,
Shuggie Otis,
Josef K,
Max Romeo,
Scratch Acid,
Yusef Lateef,
cv313,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pet Shop Boys,
Banda Bassotti,
Jandek,
Fear,
The Fall,
Motorama,
the Normal,
Toni Rubio,
Sällskapet,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.