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 Niger and from Accra.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Robert Görl to the punk 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 Velvet Underground. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cabaret Voltaire record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
Au Pairs,
Average White Band,
Leonard Cohen,
David Bowie,
The Shadows of Knight,
Roger Hodgson,
UT,
kango's stein massive,
R.M.O.,
The Move,
Quando Quango,
Pharoah Sanders,
Circle Jerks,
Depeche Mode,
The Stooges,
48th St. Collective,
Oblivians,
Kurtis Blow,
The Velvet Underground,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kenny Larkin,
Judy Mowatt,
Derrick May,
Livin' Joy,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Traffic Nightmare,
Electric Prunes,
Icehouse,
F. McDonald,
Buzzcocks,
Lou Reed,
Tim Buckley,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Faraquet,
The Pretty Things,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Funky Four + One,
The Fall,
Magma,
Girls At Our Best!,
Dead Boys,
Jesper Dahlback,
Marvin Gaye,
Lee Hazlewood,
T. Rex,
Marcia Griffiths,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Moby Grape,
Young Marble Giants,
Organ,
Youth Brigade,
The Divine Comedy,
H. Thieme,
Robert Wyatt,
Brothers Johnson,
Sly & The Family Stone,
One Last Wish,
Mars,
The Moody Blues,
Darondo,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.