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 Luxembourg and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet 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 Moody Blues to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Arcadia. All the underground hits.
All This Heat tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Black Dice record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Happenings,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Eric Copeland,
David Axelrod,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Intrusion,
Slave,
The Litter,
Joyce Sims,
Angry Samoans,
The Mojo Men,
Gang Green,
Bob Dylan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Kaleidoscope,
The Smiths,
Aural Exciters,
Gregory Isaacs,
Trumans Water,
Simply Red,
Scratch Acid,
The Fall,
The Detroit Cobras,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Radiohead,
Stereo Dub,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
EPMD,
Bush Tetras,
Liliput,
Todd Rundgren,
Television Personalities,
The Fire Engines,
The Busters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Index,
Hot Snakes,
Yusef Lateef,
Lalo Schifrin,
Scan 7,
Rakim,
Eli Mardock,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Mantronix,
Derrick Morgan,
James White and The Blacks,
Q and Not U,
The Sound,
Gil Scott Heron,
Black Flag,
Lightning Bolt,
Make Up,
Hoover,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gerry Rafferty,
Crispian St. Peters,
Von Mondo,
Subhumans,
X-Ray Spex,
Rites of Spring,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Last Poets,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.