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 Yemen and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator 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 JFA to the electroclash 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 Shuggie Otis. All the underground hits.
All The Mighty Diamonds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Theoretical Girls 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Stockholm Monsters,
Faraquet,
The Real Kids,
Marvin Gaye,
48th St. Collective,
Freddie Wadling,
Hoover,
Zapp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Eric Copeland,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Tropical Tobacco,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eve St. Jones,
Zero Boys,
Flipper,
Wings,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bootsy Collins,
Leonard Cohen,
Steve Hackett,
John Foxx,
Sun City Girls,
John Holt,
Monolake,
The Selecter,
Roxy Music,
the Swans,
Eyeless In Gaza,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Mantronix,
Soul II Soul,
New Age Steppers,
Rotary Connection,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Last Poets,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bush Tetras,
Idris Muhammad,
Lebanon Hanover,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Joy Division,
Technova,
Con Funk Shun,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sound Behaviour,
The Slackers,
The Neon Judgement,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Graham Central Station,
Cheater Slicks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grandmaster Flash,
Barrington Levy,
Avey Tare,
Jeff Mills,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Josef K,
Scrapy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners, Bad Manners.
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.