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 Azerbaijan and from Shanghai.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 snare 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 Wasted Youth to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reuben Wilson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Roy Ayers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum 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 Golliwogs,
Derrick May,
H. Thieme,
John Foxx,
Boz Scaggs,
Urselle,
Ice-T,
Crash Course in Science,
Electric Prunes,
The Searchers,
Bill Wells,
James White and The Blacks,
Blake Baxter,
Sex Pistols,
Youth Brigade,
Lou Reed,
The Busters,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
LL Cool J,
Symarip,
The Smiths,
The Happenings,
Funkadelic,
Yusef Lateef,
Bobby Byrd,
Jeru the Damaja,
Funky Four + One,
Tropical Tobacco,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deepchord,
Bluetip,
Max Romeo,
Swans,
Drive Like Jehu,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Severed Heads,
John Cale,
Henry Cow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dirtbombs,
Parry Music,
Boredoms,
Zero Boys,
The Vogues,
The Moleskins,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Robert Görl,
Danielle Patucci,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Shadows of Knight,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mary Jane Girls,
Fad Gadget,
Fatback Band,
The Names,
Absolute Body Control,
Hardrive,
Monolake,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Associates,
The Wake, The Wake, The Wake, The Wake.
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.