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 Argentina and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Suburban Knight to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Marmalade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerri Chandler 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Glambeats Corp.,
Anthony Braxton,
John Lydon,
Easy Going,
Bluetip,
Ten City,
KRS-One,
Slick Rick,
Essential Logic,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sixth Finger,
Oneida,
Alice Coltrane,
Zero Boys,
Man Eating Sloth,
Jeff Mills,
New Age Steppers,
June Days,
Rod Modell,
Echospace,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Audionom,
Lou Reed,
Mary Jane Girls,
Bill Wells,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Popol Vuh,
Excepter,
Arthur Verocai,
Rufus Thomas,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Gun Club,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Searchers,
Girls At Our Best!,
Heaven 17,
James White and The Blacks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Sound,
Fad Gadget,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Barbara Tucker,
Outsiders,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Offenders,
Robert Hood,
Fat Boys,
Clear Light,
Procol Harum,
Agitation Free,
Porter Ricks,
Moby Grape,
the Bar-Kays,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Minutemen,
Roger Hodgson,
T.S.O.L.,
Camouflage,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Knickerbockers,
the Slits, the Slits, the Slits, the Slits.
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.