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 Madagascar and from Tokyo.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 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 Ossler 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 DJ Style. All the underground hits.
All Fifty Foot Hose tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Byron Stingily record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Popol Vuh,
Ken Boothe,
Fat Boys,
The Gories,
Scion,
T. Rex,
Janne Schatter,
The Music Machine,
The Raincoats,
Gichy Dan,
Derrick May,
AZ,
Von Mondo,
Wasted Youth,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Stockholm Monsters,
Minny Pops,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Mandrill,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Walker Brothers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Nick Fraelich,
Dead Boys,
Jandek,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Ten City,
Lindisfarne,
Wolf Eyes,
Adolescents,
Spandau Ballet,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nik Kershaw,
Fatback Band,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Davy DMX,
Black Flag,
Hardrive,
Babytalk,
Urselle,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Radio Birdman,
the Association,
The Alarm Clocks,
Barbara Tucker,
The Detroit Cobras,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Foxx,
Kool Moe Dee,
Average White Band,
Aloha Tigers,
Gang Green,
John Holt,
Dorothy Ashby,
Joensuu 1685,
Crash Course in Science,
Glenn Branca,
Desert Stars,
The Knickerbockers,
The Saints,
Robert Hood,
Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring, Rites of Spring.
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.