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 Namibia and from Delhi.
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 Mumbai and Portland.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The New Christs to the dance 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 The Gap Band. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Ultravox,
Eden Ahbez,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ossler,
Pole,
Harry Pussy,
Oneida,
One Last Wish,
Altered Images,
Joyce Sims,
The Litter,
Wings,
The Standells,
Nick Fraelich,
Motorama,
Warsaw,
Sight & Sound,
Dual Sessions,
Robert Hood,
Clear Light,
Zero Boys,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
X-101,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Kerri Chandler,
Man Parrish,
Alice Coltrane,
The Skatalites,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Unwound,
Masters at Work,
Pylon,
Anthony Braxton,
These Immortal Souls,
Q and Not U,
Minnie Riperton,
Jacques Brel,
The Real Kids,
Graham Central Station,
Talk Talk,
The Birthday Party,
Pierre Henry,
Funkadelic,
Robert Görl,
Darondo,
Fela Kuti,
Bobby Womack,
Max Romeo,
Visage,
Boz Scaggs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Angels of Light,
T. Rex,
John Holt,
Intrusion,
Wasted Youth,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bang On A Can,
Yazoo,
The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement, The Neon Judgement.
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.