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 Bulgaria and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1987.
I was there at the first Nirvana show in Seattle.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Stockholm.
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 clarinet 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 Nation of Ulysses to the rap kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Avey Tare. All the underground hits.
All The Fall tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Bananas 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ituana,
Rosa Yemen,
The Busters,
The Blackbyrds,
Josef K,
Chris Corsano,
Harpers Bizarre,
Ornette Coleman,
Soul II Soul,
Ultravox,
The Electric Prunes,
Amon Düül,
Accadde A,
The Remains,
Altered Images,
Rhythm & Sound,
Jeru the Damaja,
Bang On A Can,
Scott Walker,
Hot Snakes,
Boogie Down Productions,
Minor Threat,
Subhumans,
ABC,
Derrick May,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Dave Clark Five,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Joe Finger,
Popol Vuh,
The American Breed,
Cameo,
Joensuu 1685,
The Zeros,
Cecil Taylor,
Camouflage,
The Last Poets,
Sugar Minott,
Pussy Galore,
Boz Scaggs,
Johnny Clarke,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ohio Players,
Tommy Roe,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Associates,
Bobby Womack,
Y Pants,
Magma,
Dawn Penn,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Faraquet,
Bill Near,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Nick Fraelich,
Juan Atkins,
The Barracudas,
Gabor Szabo,
Cybotron,
Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins, Hasil Adkins.
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.