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 Lebanon and from Stockholm.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 Scratch Acid to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Alton Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Aswad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Junior Murvin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Suicide,
Radio Birdman,
Piero Umiliani,
Bush Tetras,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Smiths,
The Busters,
The Angels of Light,
Eric Copeland,
The Human League,
Q and Not U,
Joey Negro,
Interpol,
Scratch Acid,
Nas,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Johnny Osbourne,
John Cale,
Easy Going,
Hardrive,
Minny Pops,
Rosa Yemen,
The Blues Magoos,
Blake Baxter,
Royal Trux,
Lee Hazlewood,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Franke,
Silicon Teens,
Excepter,
Harmonia,
Carl Craig,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Real Kids,
Von Mondo,
the Slits,
Unwound,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Frankie Knuckles,
Susan Cadogan,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Aloha Tigers,
Idris Muhammad,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Slave,
Cheater Slicks,
Shoche,
Loose Ends,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
June Days,
Barclay James Harvest,
Andrew Hill,
Ralphi Rosario,
Kenny Larkin,
Magma,
Angry Samoans,
The Zeros,
Dave Gahan,
The Monks,
Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl, Robert Görl.
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.