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 Djibouti and from Bremen.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Cluster 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 Neil Young. All the underground hits.
All Howard Jones tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Zeros record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fort Wilson Riot,
Isaac Hayes,
Skriet,
Trumans Water,
The Divine Comedy,
Peter & Gordon,
The Electric Prunes,
Scan 7,
The New Christs,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Names,
Lindisfarne,
Con Funk Shun,
Fatback Band,
Hot Snakes,
Roxette,
Chris Corsano,
The Fortunes,
CMW,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Crime,
The Moody Blues,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Skarface,
Lebanon Hanover,
Chrome,
Kayak,
Quadrant,
Sight & Sound,
Eden Ahbez,
KRS-One,
Jeff Mills,
Neu!,
Los Fastidios,
Skaos,
Rotary Connection,
Eddi Front,
Model 500,
Niagra,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Rites of Spring,
The Pretty Things,
The Blues Magoos,
Spoonie Gee,
Darondo,
Severed Heads,
Jawbox,
Donald Byrd,
Carl Craig,
Zapp,
Ice-T,
The Leaves,
June Days,
Iggy Pop,
The Motions,
Black Sheep,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Aswad,
The Stooges,
The Offenders,
Youth Brigade,
Fela Kuti,
The Durutti Column,
Pagans,
James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions, James Chance & The Contortions.
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.