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 Honduras and from Lyon.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Flesh Eaters to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 kango's stein massive. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Saccharine Trust,
Alice Coltrane,
the Sonics,
Average White Band,
The Toasters,
This Heat,
Marine Girls,
Gang Starr,
Sugar Minott,
Second Layer,
Harpers Bizarre,
Freddie Wadling,
World's Most,
The Alarm Clocks,
Eric Dolphy,
The Remains,
Shuggie Otis,
Clear Light,
Donald Byrd,
The Music Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Depeche Mode,
The Victims,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Reuben Wilson,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ralphi Rosario,
L. Decosne,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Jawbox,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
U.S. Maple,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Gang Green,
Sister Nancy,
X-Ray Spex,
Bill Near,
The Fuzztones,
Crooked Eye,
Lou Reed,
EPMD,
Bad Manners,
Camberwell Now,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Golliwogs,
James White and The Blacks,
DJ Style,
Neu!,
The Cure,
Sight & Sound,
David Axelrod,
Moby Grape,
Public Enemy,
John Foxx,
The Gladiators,
Cal Tjader,
Girls At Our Best!,
Roxette,
Soft Cell,
Can,
Kurtis Blow,
The Monochrome Set,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.