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 Denmark and from Cairo.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Ultramagnetic MC's to the punk 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 Angels of Light & Akron/Family. All the underground hits.
All Radio Birdman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Pus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 an oboe and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Newcleus,
Interpol,
Marvin Gaye,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Barbara Tucker,
Ultimate Spinach,
Circle Jerks,
Urselle,
Bluetip,
Essential Logic,
Lungfish,
Von Mondo,
Toni Rubio,
Fear,
OOIOO,
The Mojo Men,
Sight & Sound,
Moss Icon,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Boogie Down Productions,
48th St. Collective,
a-ha,
The Moody Blues,
Darondo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Junior Murvin,
B.T. Express,
F. McDonald,
The Cramps,
Qualms,
Pulsallama,
Johnny Clarke,
Sexual Harrassment,
Aswad,
Rakim,
Aloha Tigers,
The Dirtbombs,
The Toasters,
Pierre Henry,
Porter Ricks,
Outsiders,
Rosa Yemen,
The Neon Judgement,
Japan,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The United States of America,
David Axelrod,
Sam Rivers,
Aaron Thompson,
Ludus,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Sex Pistols,
Ultravox,
Neu!,
The Cure,
the Slits,
Tom Boy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
H. Thieme,
Nas,
Flash Fearless,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.