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 Swaziland and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Angels of Light to the jazz 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 Buzzcocks. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Matthew Halsall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Delta 5,
The Raincoats,
Warren Ellis,
Blossom Toes,
New Order,
Grauzone,
Trumans Water,
Kurtis Blow,
Khruangbin,
Tres Demented,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Animal Collective,
Lucky Dragons,
Althea and Donna,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Mr. Review,
Quadrant,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Residents,
The Electric Prunes,
Ultravox,
Peter & Gordon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crispy Ambulance,
Underground Resistance,
KRS-One,
Freddie Wadling,
Los Fastidios,
Piero Umiliani,
Eden Ahbez,
The Tremeloes,
Gang Starr,
Wire,
Charles Mingus,
Roy Ayers,
Smog,
Average White Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rakim,
Robert Hood,
the Soft Cell,
X-Ray Spex,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Metal Thangz,
Arthur Verocai,
The Black Dice,
The Sonics,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kenny Larkin,
8 Eyed Spy,
Derrick May,
Aaron Thompson,
Soft Cell,
Camberwell Now,
Easy Going,
John Coltrane,
Ituana,
Bootsy Collins,
Wally Richardson,
The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans, The Trojans.
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.