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 Australia and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Donald Byrd to the dance 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 Remains. All the underground hits.
All The Divine Comedy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nirvana 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 marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hardrive,
the Germs,
Avey Tare,
Pole,
Lakeside,
Marshall Jefferson,
Big Daddy Kane,
Alton Ellis,
Crooked Eye,
The Gladiators,
Dorothy Ashby,
Mark Hollis,
Aswad,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Derrick May,
The Birthday Party,
Jesper Dahlback,
Guru Guru,
Cymande,
Bluetip,
Audionom,
X-102,
Nico,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Hashim,
Gang of Four,
Au Pairs,
kango's stein massive,
Eli Mardock,
Boz Scaggs,
The Mojo Men,
Cecil Taylor,
the Association,
The Barracudas,
DNA,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Stetsasonic,
Derrick Morgan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wire,
Yusef Lateef,
48th St. Collective,
The Detroit Cobras,
Barry Ungar,
Grey Daturas,
Y Pants,
Scion,
Judy Mowatt,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Joy Division,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Shadows of Knight,
K-Klass,
Faust,
Minor Threat,
Moss Icon,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Gun Club,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers, The Slackers.
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.