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 Greece and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare 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 Zeros to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Barclay James Harvest. All the underground hits.
All The Doors tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Black Moon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monochrome Set record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Patti Smith,
Youth Brigade,
James White and The Blacks,
Josef K,
The Star Department,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nils Olav,
Bill Wells,
Mo-Dettes,
Scratch Acid,
Don Cherry,
The Selecter,
Rapeman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Fall,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Massinfluence,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mission of Burma,
Severed Heads,
Jacob Miller,
Isaac Hayes,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Oneida,
Jandek,
Pharoah Sanders,
Matthew Halsall,
The Gun Club,
FM Einheit,
Byron Stingily,
Scott Walker,
Ponytail,
Wings,
Marine Girls,
Porter Ricks,
Minutemen,
The Dirtbombs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Last Poets,
Gang Gang Dance,
Wire,
David McCallum,
John Coltrane,
Khruangbin,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Symarip,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Young Rascals,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ronnie Foster,
The Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Ornette Coleman,
Sugar Minott,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cheater Slicks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
New Age Steppers,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.