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 Austria and from Toronto.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Wally Richardson to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All The Golliwogs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tropical Tobacco record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Reagan Youth,
Dennis Brown,
Basic Channel,
Soulsonic Force,
Soft Cell,
Model 500,
Matthew Bourne,
Heaven 17,
Delon & Dalcan,
Pagans,
Eli Mardock,
Prince Buster,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Derrick May,
Sarah Menescal,
Mad Mike,
The Blues Magoos,
Colin Newman,
John Holt,
Half Japanese,
Newcleus,
The Selecter,
Swell Maps,
The American Breed,
Rapeman,
Porter Ricks,
Bang On A Can,
The Residents,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Index,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Marvin Gaye,
Jawbox,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Grey Daturas,
Schoolly D,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Country Teasers,
Rites of Spring,
Sonny Sharrock,
Bobby Womack,
Crispy Ambulance,
Lee Hazlewood,
Alison Limerick,
Amon Düül,
Gichy Dan,
Mantronix,
kango's stein massive,
Minnie Riperton,
Kayak,
Stereo Dub,
AZ,
Barry Ungar,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Smog,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.