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 Congo and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 A Certain Ratio to the punk 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 Eric Copeland. All the underground hits.
All The Gun Club tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fatback Band 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Model 500 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Magazine,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Skarface,
F. McDonald,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Misunderstood,
Sixth Finger,
L. Decosne,
Supertramp,
The Zeros,
Susan Cadogan,
The Grass Roots,
The Black Dice,
Soul II Soul,
Siglo XX,
John Cale,
Quadrant,
Young Marble Giants,
Fatback Band,
Au Pairs,
Glambeats Corp.,
Little Man,
Boogie Down Productions,
Charles Mingus,
Negative Approach,
Aural Exciters,
Kenny Larkin,
Quantec,
FM Einheit,
Monolake,
KRS-One,
AZ,
Al Stewart,
Hashim,
Jandek,
Monks,
Sex Pistols,
New Order,
Scion,
Ash Ra Tempel,
T.S.O.L.,
The Five Americans,
The Slits,
Suburban Knight,
Robert Wyatt,
Brick,
Andrew Hill,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Letta Mbulu,
Sugar Minott,
the Sonics,
Gang Starr,
Smog,
Anakelly,
The Young Rascals,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Pole,
Kerri Chandler,
Juan Atkins,
The Stooges,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Durutti Column,
T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex, T. Rex.
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.