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 Nicaragua and from Manchester.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the oboe 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bobby Sherman. All the underground hits.
All Barry Ungar tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tubeway Army 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 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barrington Levy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
48th St. Collective,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Rakim,
Letta Mbulu,
Bobby Byrd,
The Durutti Column,
Marine Girls,
Liliput,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Duran Duran,
Newcleus,
Sun Ra,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Erykah Badu,
Gerry Rafferty,
Bluetip,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bob Dylan,
Robert Görl,
John Cale,
The Dead C,
The Gories,
Ultra Naté,
Reuben Wilson,
The Flesh Eaters,
Ituana,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Kas Product,
Charles Mingus,
Lou Christie,
Infiniti,
Au Pairs,
Minnie Riperton,
June Days,
Motorama,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lindisfarne,
LL Cool J,
Ossler,
The Gap Band,
Thee Headcoats,
The Electric Prunes,
Rekid,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Motions,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Seeds,
Black Flag,
Lower 48,
The Real Kids,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jacob Miller,
The Dave Clark Five,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Trojans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Oneida,
The Dirtbombs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Desert Stars,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.