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 Angola and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Cal Tjader to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Delon & Dalcan. All the underground hits.
All Black Pus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wasted Youth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
The Busters,
Rotary Connection,
Tom Boy,
Monks,
Byron Stingily,
Slick Rick,
Barclay James Harvest,
Lucky Dragons,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Gap Band,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Misunderstood,
Barry Ungar,
Faraquet,
Maurizio,
Max Romeo,
The Cramps,
The Moody Blues,
Man Parrish,
Amazonics,
Urselle,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Nirvana,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sällskapet,
June Days,
Radio Birdman,
The Martian,
Albert Ayler,
Newcleus,
Glenn Branca,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Eric Copeland,
EPMD,
Yellowson,
Guru Guru,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Matthew Halsall,
Deepchord,
Donald Byrd,
The Offenders,
ABC,
Robert Hood,
Gastr Del Sol,
Hasil Adkins,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Magma,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Aloha Tigers,
Jeru the Damaja,
La Düsseldorf,
The Seeds,
Oblivians,
The Leaves,
Lakeside,
Letta Mbulu,
Eden Ahbez,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.