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 Congo and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Electric Prunes to the grime 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 Byron Stingily. All the underground hits.
All Animal Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Bowie record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Pole,
Faraquet,
The Monochrome Set,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lightning Bolt,
Anthony Braxton,
Vainqueur,
Iggy Pop,
Nirvana,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Smiths,
Rapeman,
Jesper Dahlback,
Quadrant,
Man Parrish,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter and Kerry,
The Victims,
The Misunderstood,
Pagans,
Blake Baxter,
John Holt,
Delon & Dalcan,
Rakim,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Residents,
Barrington Levy,
The Wake,
Rekid,
One Last Wish,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Slits,
Jawbox,
Wire,
The Shadows of Knight,
Deakin,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sarah Menescal,
Black Moon,
Dark Day,
The Seeds,
Gang Green,
Sixth Finger,
Gang Starr,
Curtis Mayfield,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kas Product,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mark Hollis,
The Fortunes,
Fugazi,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Ornette Coleman,
Masters at Work,
Sonny Sharrock,
Negative Approach,
Rod Modell,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.