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 Samoa and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Human League practice in a loft in Sheffield.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Echospace to the rap kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Ice-T. All the underground hits.
All Bob Dylan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Slick Rick,
Lucky Dragons,
Nirvana,
U.S. Maple,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Basic Channel,
Second Layer,
Panda Bear,
David Bowie,
The Buckinghams,
Jandek,
Popol Vuh,
Monolake,
the Slits,
The Residents,
Judy Mowatt,
the Fania All-Stars,
Althea and Donna,
Joyce Sims,
Surgeon,
Eurythmics,
Crooked Eye,
The Leaves,
Lungfish,
Jerry's Kids,
Ossler,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fluxion,
Black Moon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Juan Atkins,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lou Reed,
Warsaw,
The Star Department,
10cc,
Josef K,
The Moody Blues,
Barry Ungar,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Ronnie Foster,
Chris Corsano,
The Gun Club,
John Cale,
Aloha Tigers,
The Victims,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Robert Wyatt,
Carl Craig,
Deadbeat,
Robert Görl,
David Axelrod,
Terry Callier,
Essential Logic,
Aural Exciters,
Alton Ellis,
The Motions,
Sixth Finger,
A Certain Ratio,
The Angels of Light,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Five Americans,
The Fugs,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.