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 Haiti and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Leonard Cohen to the rap 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 Television Personalities. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lee Hazlewood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 808 and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
The Stooges,
Joyce Sims,
Roxy Music,
Matthew Halsall,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Delta 5,
Desert Stars,
The Five Americans,
F. McDonald,
The Kinks,
Amon Düül II,
Donny Hathaway,
Masters at Work,
Barclay James Harvest,
Ultra Naté,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Fat Boys,
Anthony Braxton,
Thee Headcoats,
Flipper,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Last Poets,
Jawbox,
Slave,
Sonic Youth,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Lower 48,
The Young Rascals,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Techniques,
Tubeway Army,
John Foxx,
Shoche,
Severed Heads,
ABC,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Pantaleimon,
The Detroit Cobras,
Josef K,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Black Pus,
Marvin Gaye,
Country Teasers,
Bronski Beat,
Hoover,
Inner City,
The Index,
Arcadia,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Eddi Front,
Hashim,
The Cosmic Jokers,
DNA,
Soulsonic Force,
Scratch Acid,
Cybotron,
Nas, Nas, Nas, Nas.
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.