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 Malawi and from Delhi.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Second Layer show in South London.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Davy DMX to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All The Black Dice tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mantronix,
Sandy B,
Albert Ayler,
The Slackers,
Matthew Bourne,
Cybotron,
Harmonia,
Bad Manners,
X-102,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Hoover,
The Dirtbombs,
Television,
Excepter,
Dead Boys,
Whodini,
Audionom,
Gregory Isaacs,
Stereo Dub,
Dual Sessions,
a-ha,
Porter Ricks,
Swans,
Anakelly,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Ten City,
Amon Düül II,
Sonic Youth,
Pylon,
The Stooges,
Q and Not U,
Depeche Mode,
The Red Krayola,
Arcadia,
The Buckinghams,
Andrew Hill,
Kevin Saunderson,
Iggy Pop,
The Toasters,
Ultra Naté,
Al Stewart,
Black Moon,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
D'Angelo,
Rufus Thomas,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Guru Guru,
Arab on Radar,
Mandrill,
Minnie Riperton,
The Mojo Men,
Bill Near,
Circle Jerks,
Archie Shepp,
Procol Harum,
Bronski Beat,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Move,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.