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 Greece and from Manila.
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 1960 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Birthday Party to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Mojo Men. All the underground hits.
All JFA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cluster,
Simply Red,
Marshall Jefferson,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Litter,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lebanon Hanover,
Scratch Acid,
The Knickerbockers,
Y Pants,
Colin Newman,
Neil Young,
The Associates,
Au Pairs,
Arthur Verocai,
Swell Maps,
Sixth Finger,
Funky Four + One,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lou Christie,
Slick Rick,
Mantronix,
Tomorrow,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Aural Exciters,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Qualms,
Jawbox,
Livin' Joy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Doors,
Make Up,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Mission of Burma,
Marcia Griffiths,
Sexual Harrassment,
Eden Ahbez,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wings,
Janne Schatter,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Busters,
X-101,
Archie Shepp,
the Swans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Radio Birdman,
Bill Wells,
Harry Pussy,
The Monochrome Set,
Scan 7,
EPMD,
Flash Fearless,
Q and Not U,
Stockholm Monsters,
Oblivians,
Spoonie Gee,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Ultimate Spinach,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones, Eve St. Jones.
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.