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 South Sudan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 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 Tim Buckley. All the underground hits.
All The Five Americans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faust,
Joey Negro,
Godley & Creme,
Hot Snakes,
DJ Sneak,
Scott Walker,
Big Daddy Kane,
The J.B.'s,
The New Christs,
Duran Duran,
The Associates,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
John Lydon,
The Offenders,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Harry Pussy,
Unwound,
Bobby Sherman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Andrew Hill,
Absolute Body Control,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
New Order,
UT,
Lebanon Hanover,
Can,
Buzzcocks,
Peter and Kerry,
Soulsonic Force,
Bobby Womack,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sällskapet,
Black Flag,
The Shadows of Knight,
Brass Construction,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Youth Brigade,
Camberwell Now,
The Evens,
John Foxx,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Coltrane,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Mark Hollis,
the Association,
Deadbeat,
Animal Collective,
Eli Mardock,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Remains,
Junior Murvin,
Goldenarms,
Josef K,
The Electric Prunes,
Wally Richardson,
Mantronix,
Fugazi,
Iggy Pop,
The Selecter,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Camouflage,
Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow, Henry Cow.
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.