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 Jamaica and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Deepchord to the rap kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Sly & The Family Stone tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Simply Red 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Danielle Patucci record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Erykah Badu,
Juan Atkins,
The Index,
Flipper,
Big Daddy Kane,
Ornette Coleman,
Ken Boothe,
The Grass Roots,
Eric Copeland,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ituana,
Monolake,
Khruangbin,
Patti Smith,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Cheater Slicks,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Knickerbockers,
Aural Exciters,
The Fuzztones,
Lower 48,
The Real Kids,
Andrew Hill,
Stereo Dub,
Pole,
Radio Birdman,
Robert Wyatt,
The New Christs,
Dual Sessions,
DJ Style,
Mary Jane Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Urselle,
The Misunderstood,
Lee Hazlewood,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marshall Jefferson,
Alice Coltrane,
Crispian St. Peters,
Scratch Acid,
Skarface,
Stiv Bators,
Essential Logic,
Bauhaus,
Archie Shepp,
T. Rex,
the Normal,
Dawn Penn,
Althea and Donna,
The Dead C,
Hot Snakes,
Whodini,
The Red Krayola,
Goldenarms,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Monks,
Niagra,
Television,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Neon Judgement,
Tomorrow,
Excepter, Excepter, Excepter, Excepter.
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.