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 Brunei and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Newcleus to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Half Japanese. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eyeless In Gaza,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Deadbeat,
Essential Logic,
Funky Four + One,
The Barracudas,
Joensuu 1685,
Black Bananas,
Von Mondo,
Dual Sessions,
Gang of Four,
Rosa Yemen,
Shoche,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Mandrill,
Young Marble Giants,
U.S. Maple,
the Fania All-Stars,
Tomorrow,
Cameo,
Lower 48,
The Evens,
Clear Light,
Severed Heads,
B.T. Express,
LL Cool J,
Faust,
X-102,
One Last Wish,
Ossler,
Joey Negro,
Vainqueur,
The Smoke,
Sonny Sharrock,
World's Most,
48th St. Collective,
Idris Muhammad,
Bob Dylan,
Faraquet,
Letta Mbulu,
Marmalade,
Lou Christie,
Fad Gadget,
Mars,
Lebanon Hanover,
Fluxion,
Crooked Eye,
the Human League,
The Black Dice,
The Selecter,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Sun City Girls,
Albert Ayler,
Tres Demented,
Index,
Cluster,
Donny Hathaway,
Josef K,
Dawn Penn,
X-101,
Barry Ungar,
Rites of Spring,
La Düsseldorf,
Franke,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.