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 Chile and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the theremin 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Camouflage tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Little Man record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 rhodes and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eric Dolphy,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Juan Atkins,
Alton Ellis,
Ossler,
Magazine,
Marcia Griffiths,
Porter Ricks,
Brothers Johnson,
The Fall,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Marc Almond,
Tres Demented,
Bobby Byrd,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ronan,
The Tremeloes,
Livin' Joy,
Alice Coltrane,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Theoretical Girls,
Das Ding,
Jerry's Kids,
A Certain Ratio,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Shoche,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
These Immortal Souls,
Joe Smooth,
The Toasters,
The Searchers,
DNA,
Sun Ra,
Sixth Finger,
Silicon Teens,
The Beau Brummels,
Q and Not U,
Hasil Adkins,
Hoover,
Banda Bassotti,
The Cramps,
Masters at Work,
Fad Gadget,
Lungfish,
Aloha Tigers,
Grauzone,
Janne Schatter,
Amazonics,
Unwound,
Ornette Coleman,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Oblivians,
Max Romeo,
T.S.O.L.,
The Dirtbombs,
Parry Music,
Boz Scaggs,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Sex Pistols,
Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin, Khruangbin.
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.