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 Burundi and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia show in London.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 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 Kurtis Blow to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mad Mike. All the underground hits.
All Man Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Albert Ayler,
Wally Richardson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Freddie Wadling,
K-Klass,
The Zeros,
Ten City,
Bob Dylan,
Tears for Fears,
Pulsallama,
Quantec,
Urselle,
Kenny Larkin,
Funkadelic,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
B.T. Express,
Bobby Womack,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Sonics,
Scientists,
Drexciya,
Deepchord,
Icehouse,
Carl Craig,
Black Sheep,
Gichy Dan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Sexual Harrassment,
Rites of Spring,
The Raincoats,
Wings,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Monochrome Set,
The Index,
Warren Ellis,
MDC,
Bang On A Can,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Ronan,
Cecil Taylor,
Nick Fraelich,
Boz Scaggs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Sonics,
Sun Ra,
The Velvet Underground,
cv313,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Young Marble Giants,
Quando Quango,
The Wake,
Average White Band,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
DJ Sneak,
Crime,
Marine Girls,
Minnie Riperton,
Audionom,
Idris Muhammad,
Underground Resistance,
One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish, One Last Wish.
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.