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 Philippines and from Philadelphia.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 güiro 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 Fela Kuti to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Zero Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every T.S.O.L. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Accadde A,
Rod Modell,
The Dave Clark Five,
Masters at Work,
Zapp,
AZ,
Wire,
Albert Ayler,
Q and Not U,
Agent Orange,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Reagan Youth,
Traffic Nightmare,
Absolute Body Control,
This Heat,
James White and The Blacks,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gastr Del Sol,
Soft Cell,
Gang Gang Dance,
Deadbeat,
Tom Boy,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Freddie Wadling,
Royal Trux,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Moon,
Zero Boys,
Anakelly,
Kayak,
Archie Shepp,
Howard Jones,
Lower 48,
Tropical Tobacco,
Idris Muhammad,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Outsiders,
Metal Thangz,
Sister Nancy,
Severed Heads,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Smoke,
Interpol,
UT,
The Grass Roots,
The Gories,
Vainqueur,
Dave Gahan,
Pantaleimon,
Prince Buster,
Robert Hood,
Susan Cadogan,
Bauhaus,
Eyeless In Gaza,
T.S.O.L.,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Stereo Dub,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes, Electric Prunes.
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.