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 Liberia and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 harpsichord 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 Todd Terry to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Black Dice. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick Morgan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 a synthesizer and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 8 Eyed Spy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
The Blackbyrds,
Fifty Foot Hose,
DJ Sneak,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Porter Ricks,
Deakin,
Mr. Review,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cluster,
Bronski Beat,
Anthony Braxton,
Hoover,
Bad Manners,
Pole,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Pantytec,
B.T. Express,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Basic Channel,
Malaria!,
Sexual Harrassment,
Judy Mowatt,
New Order,
The Stooges,
Tubeway Army,
Buzzcocks,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Black Sheep,
The Red Krayola,
Flipper,
Altered Images,
Gichy Dan,
Funky Four + One,
Piero Umiliani,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Human League,
Cal Tjader,
The Moody Blues,
CMW,
Skriet,
Youth Brigade,
The Happenings,
Kas Product,
Girls At Our Best!,
Banda Bassotti,
Sun Ra,
John Foxx,
F. McDonald,
Parry Music,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Jeff Mills,
Albert Ayler,
Harpers Bizarre,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crooked Eye,
Public Enemy,
Bobby Byrd,
Yusef Lateef,
The Fortunes,
The Count Five,
Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox, Jawbox.
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.