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 Georgia and from Bologna.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin 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 Soul II Soul to the grime 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 Kerri Chandler. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oneida record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scratch Acid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kool Moe Dee,
Derrick May,
Sound Behaviour,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Sixth Finger,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Kinks,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Goldenarms,
Thee Headcoats,
Gregory Isaacs,
LL Cool J,
Cameo,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Unwound,
Nils Olav,
Zapp,
Delta 5,
Absolute Body Control,
Bobby Byrd,
Masters at Work,
Erasure,
Lower 48,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gong,
The Human League,
Grandmaster Flash,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bad Manners,
The Grass Roots,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sun City Girls,
The Monks,
Wasted Youth,
Excepter,
Banda Bassotti,
The Pop Group,
The Red Krayola,
Radiopuhelimet,
Ten City,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Aswad,
Country Teasers,
Alice Coltrane,
New York Dolls,
Livin' Joy,
Davy DMX,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Smog,
Blossom Toes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Johnny Osbourne,
Public Enemy,
Eddi Front,
The Star Department,
The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds, The Blackbyrds.
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.