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 Paraguay and from Spokane.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Inner City to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All La Düsseldorf tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Prince Buster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
Ultra Naté,
One Last Wish,
Moss Icon,
Clear Light,
Metal Thangz,
Black Bananas,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Robert Wyatt,
Patti Smith,
Heaven 17,
Angry Samoans,
Fear,
The Techniques,
Magma,
Todd Terry,
Smog,
Von Mondo,
Lyres,
The Trojans,
Sixth Finger,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jawbox,
Max Romeo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Harry Pussy,
The Litter,
The Moleskins,
Ten City,
Liliput,
Minutemen,
Joyce Sims,
H. Thieme,
Wasted Youth,
Wolf Eyes,
Soft Machine,
Desert Stars,
The Red Krayola,
X-Ray Spex,
Drive Like Jehu,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eve St. Jones,
Mo-Dettes,
Au Pairs,
Nas,
The Modern Lovers,
Alison Limerick,
Cymande,
Symarip,
The Cramps,
Ossler,
Lee Hazlewood,
Eli Mardock,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Rapeman,
The Evens,
Donald Byrd,
Aswad,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Barrington Levy,
the Normal, the Normal, the Normal, the Normal.
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.