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 Barbados and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 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 Ohio Players to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sandy B. All the underground hits.
All Organ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every La Düsseldorf 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a James White and The Blacks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fortunes,
Marcia Griffiths,
a-ha,
Yaz,
Jesper Dahlback,
X-101,
Maleditus Sound,
Public Image Ltd.,
Swell Maps,
Gong,
Desert Stars,
Pulsallama,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Names,
48th St. Collective,
Unwound,
Quando Quango,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
FM Einheit,
Hardrive,
Lebanon Hanover,
Zapp,
Peter & Gordon,
Pierre Henry,
John Holt,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Flag,
Livin' Joy,
Sam Rivers,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Peter and Kerry,
Magma,
The Doors,
Sixth Finger,
Black Pus,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Stockholm Monsters,
Chrome,
Electric Prunes,
Arab on Radar,
The Doobie Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Fugs,
Toni Rubio,
L. Decosne,
Michelle Simonal,
Johnny Clarke,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bill Wells,
The Fuzztones,
Cameo,
Pantaleimon,
Lyres,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pantytec,
Royal Trux,
The Sound, The Sound, The Sound, The Sound.
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.