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 Ecuador and from Houston.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 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 The Cowsills to the rap 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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Lizzy Mercier Descloux tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rekid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Smoke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Joe Smooth,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
the Human League,
Terrestrial Tones,
Chris & Cosey,
The Slackers,
Grey Daturas,
The American Breed,
Country Teasers,
Barrington Levy,
Sarah Menescal,
Kerri Chandler,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Nation of Ulysses,
Grandmaster Flash,
Duran Duran,
The Cowsills,
Youth Brigade,
The Offenders,
Sugar Minott,
Agitation Free,
Hardrive,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
LL Cool J,
Donny Hathaway,
Crash Course in Science,
Aloha Tigers,
The Cramps,
Heaven 17,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Radiohead,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Interpol,
The Move,
Pagans,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Associates,
ABBA,
Marmalade,
Dawn Penn,
Magma,
Pylon,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Au Pairs,
Sonny Sharrock,
John Lydon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Susan Cadogan,
June Days,
Yusef Lateef,
Tubeway Army,
Traffic Nightmare,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Kerrie Biddell,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Flesh Eaters,
New York Dolls,
Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy, Livin' Joy.
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.