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 Bulgaria and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1977.
I was there at the first Zapp show in Hamilton.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Lyon.
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 organ 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 One Last Wish 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 Sound Behaviour. All the underground hits.
All Donald Byrd tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James Chance & The Contortions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magma,
H. Thieme,
The Pretty Things,
Television Personalities,
Country Teasers,
Infiniti,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Massinfluence,
The Alarm Clocks,
Ossler,
The Red Krayola,
La Düsseldorf,
Mad Mike,
Fugazi,
Depeche Mode,
Kaleidoscope,
Gang Starr,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pussy Galore,
Bobby Hutcherson,
AZ,
Sonny Sharrock,
Section 25,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Crime,
Charles Mingus,
Joey Negro,
World's Most,
John Cale,
KRS-One,
Negative Approach,
Au Pairs,
Fela Kuti,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Camouflage,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Barracudas,
Skaos,
Josef K,
Y Pants,
the Sonics,
Newcleus,
Aloha Tigers,
Barry Ungar,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
June of 44,
Moebius,
Con Funk Shun,
Khruangbin,
Vladislav Delay,
FM Einheit,
The Offenders,
Second Layer,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Modern Lovers,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Tres Demented,
Brothers Johnson,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eve St. Jones,
Chris & Cosey,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.