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 Serbia and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 guitar 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 Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon to the electroclash kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy's Rubber Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a D'Angelo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Be Bop Deluxe,
Kerri Chandler,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Fuzztones,
Sixth Finger,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Symarip,
Charles Mingus,
Negative Approach,
The Busters,
Pylon,
The Kinks,
David McCallum,
The Shadows of Knight,
Pulsallama,
Terrestrial Tones,
Aaron Thompson,
Hasil Adkins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bob Dylan,
The Barracudas,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eli Mardock,
Fluxion,
Rekid,
The Associates,
MDC,
Dorothy Ashby,
Flamin' Groovies,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Henry Cow,
Q and Not U,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Count Five,
Judy Mowatt,
Pierre Henry,
Sex Pistols,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Fortunes,
Black Flag,
Rotary Connection,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
FM Einheit,
E-Dancer,
Sarah Menescal,
Severed Heads,
Colin Newman,
Kas Product,
Livin' Joy,
The Gun Club,
Freddie Wadling,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
X-101,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
the Bar-Kays,
Second Layer,
The Pretty Things,
La Düsseldorf,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.