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 Maldives and from Salvador.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Brand Nubian to the techno 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 Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Henry Cow tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sex Pistols record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Skatalites,
F. McDonald,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Lightning Bolt,
Niagra,
Skaos,
H. Thieme,
Isaac Hayes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Eddi Front,
The Saints,
Nico,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Wolf Eyes,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Slackers,
Monolake,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Glenn Branca,
Lindisfarne,
Jacques Brel,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
the Normal,
Letta Mbulu,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Velvet Underground,
Kerrie Biddell,
Yusef Lateef,
Carl Craig,
Bobbi Humphrey,
the Germs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Pantaleimon,
Yazoo,
Visage,
Eric Copeland,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Modern Lovers,
Radiohead,
Scott Walker,
Albert Ayler,
John Cale,
Blossom Toes,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
John Coltrane,
Archie Shepp,
Mission of Burma,
Khruangbin,
Alison Limerick,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Japan,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Matthew Halsall,
The Human League,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Au Pairs,
Nils Olav,
John Foxx,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.