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 Turkmenistan and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 rhodes 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 The Busters to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Certain Ratio 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DJ Style record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker,
Ponytail,
The Associates,
Fela Kuti,
Mission of Burma,
Lucky Dragons,
the Sonics,
Lightning Bolt,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
MDC,
Deadbeat,
Toni Rubio,
Lindisfarne,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun City Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Janne Schatter,
The Searchers,
Grey Daturas,
Alison Limerick,
Severed Heads,
Supertramp,
The Martian,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Monks,
Donald Byrd,
Bootsy Collins,
Icehouse,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Eric Dolphy,
Joey Negro,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pussy Galore,
John Cale,
Panda Bear,
Iggy Pop,
The Gories,
Jacques Brel,
Chrome,
Fugazi,
Black Bananas,
the Soft Cell,
Groovy Waters,
Pole,
The Raincoats,
Young Marble Giants,
The Tremeloes,
The Fuzztones,
Franke,
One Last Wish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Five Americans,
Lebanon Hanover,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Camouflage,
Q65,
Blancmange,
Mantronix,
Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells, Bill Wells.
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.