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 Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 808 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 Gil Scott Heron to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Quando Quango tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dead Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Albert Ayler,
The Count Five,
Gichy Dan,
Panda Bear,
Excepter,
Skriet,
Lou Reed,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Technova,
The Toasters,
Smog,
Duran Duran,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Stetsasonic,
Lindisfarne,
Tubeway Army,
F. McDonald,
Radiopuhelimet,
Lucky Dragons,
Tommy Roe,
Spandau Ballet,
Soulsonic Force,
Hot Snakes,
DNA,
Jesper Dahlback,
Charles Mingus,
cv313,
The Fugs,
Stereo Dub,
The Dirtbombs,
Matthew Bourne,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Brand Nubian,
Sonny Sharrock,
Wally Richardson,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Accadde A,
Simply Red,
Roxy Music,
Lightning Bolt,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Peter and Kerry,
E-Dancer,
Freddie Wadling,
D'Angelo,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Whodini,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Funkadelic,
Pagans,
Terrestrial Tones,
Camberwell Now,
Mantronix,
Jacques Brel,
K-Klass,
Johnny Clarke,
Carl Craig,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gang Green,
H. Thieme,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.