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 Yemen and from Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Au Pairs to the rap 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 Nirvana. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Human League record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Drexciya,
Delon & Dalcan,
Porter Ricks,
Q and Not U,
Wasted Youth,
The Five Americans,
Reagan Youth,
Stockholm Monsters,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Dave Gahan,
Aswad,
Duran Duran,
Section 25,
Barclay James Harvest,
Colin Newman,
The Blackbyrds,
The Martian,
Jeff Lynne,
Eric B and Rakim,
These Immortal Souls,
Clear Light,
The Blues Magoos,
48th St. Collective,
Joe Finger,
Icehouse,
MDC,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Ultra Naté,
Underground Resistance,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
James White and The Blacks,
Max Romeo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Goldenarms,
Hashim,
T.S.O.L.,
Zero Boys,
Eddi Front,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Brick,
The Leaves,
Ornette Coleman,
Ten City,
Trumans Water,
Guru Guru,
Pylon,
Ohio Players,
Brand Nubian,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Suburban Knight,
Terrestrial Tones,
Peter & Gordon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Sun City Girls,
The Angels of Light,
Panda Bear,
Bluetip,
Unrelated Segments,
The Sonics,
Average White Band,
D'Angelo,
The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders, The Offenders.
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.