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 Equatorial Guinea and from Cairo.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Calgary.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Barbara Tucker to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 the Sonics. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every R.M.O. 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Cybotron,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Eric Copeland,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Erasure,
Joensuu 1685,
Cymande,
Darondo,
Basic Channel,
Carl Craig,
Pantaleimon,
Bluetip,
Stockholm Monsters,
These Immortal Souls,
Boz Scaggs,
Sexual Harrassment,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rufus Thomas,
Symarip,
Heaven 17,
Young Marble Giants,
Vainqueur,
Fear,
Radio Birdman,
Peter & Gordon,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Deepchord,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Silicon Teens,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Barracudas,
The Blues Magoos,
Brothers Johnson,
New York Dolls,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Moleskins,
Johnny Clarke,
Hoover,
Robert Görl,
A Certain Ratio,
Cal Tjader,
Bronski Beat,
Marshall Jefferson,
Gang Green,
The Grass Roots,
Rapeman,
Depeche Mode,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The J.B.'s,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Slits,
Bizarre Inc.,
Oblivians,
Amon Düül II,
The Monks,
Wings,
Alton Ellis,
Royal Trux,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.