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 Honduras 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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Archie Shepp to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Model 500. All the underground hits.
All Black Sheep tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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 Electric Prunes,
The Doors,
Cybotron,
The Human League,
Thompson Twins,
Average White Band,
Crash Course in Science,
Crispian St. Peters,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Dirtbombs,
Guru Guru,
The Fuzztones,
10cc,
Half Japanese,
Moebius,
The Standells,
JFA,
Whodini,
The Saints,
The Slits,
Fad Gadget,
Yusef Lateef,
The Kinks,
Gabor Szabo,
Flipper,
Glenn Branca,
Deakin,
The Trojans,
48th St. Collective,
John Foxx,
The Fugs,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Smoke,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Velvet Underground,
Slick Rick,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Doobie Brothers,
Young Marble Giants,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Accadde A,
Cymande,
Stockholm Monsters,
Scientists,
OOIOO,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Star Department,
The Happenings,
Sixth Finger,
Los Fastidios,
CMW,
Minutemen,
Boredoms,
Nas,
Max Romeo,
Icehouse,
One Last Wish,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.