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 Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Laurel Aitken to the grime 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 Association. All the underground hits.
All Qualms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Lebanon Hanover,
Lalann,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Alarm Clocks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Minny Pops,
Public Image Ltd.,
Althea and Donna,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Joensuu 1685,
Interpol,
Warren Ellis,
The Real Kids,
Bootsy Collins,
Ultimate Spinach,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Patti Smith,
the Slits,
Roger Hodgson,
Inner City,
Hashim,
Buzzcocks,
Peter & Gordon,
Moebius,
Gastr Del Sol,
Todd Rundgren,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
F. McDonald,
Silicon Teens,
Jandek,
Qualms,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Rakim,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Barclay James Harvest,
the Swans,
The Stooges,
The Pop Group,
Albert Ayler,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Doobie Brothers,
Wire,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sound Behaviour,
Soul II Soul,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Flipper,
Scientists,
Bad Manners,
cv313,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dennis Brown,
The Blackbyrds,
June of 44,
Ohio Players,
The Music Machine,
The Smoke,
The New Christs,
The Fall,
Amon Düül,
Blossom Toes,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.