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 Croatia and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 Holger Czukay 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 Amazonics to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Howard Jones. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Fania All-Stars 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nick Fraelich,
Curtis Mayfield,
Black Pus,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
PIL,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Wire,
Cymande,
In Retrospect,
Qualms,
The Buckinghams,
Faraquet,
Con Funk Shun,
Barry Ungar,
Siglo XX,
Marc Almond,
Drexciya,
Audionom,
Nils Olav,
Procol Harum,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Pretty Things,
John Holt,
New Age Steppers,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Mr. Review,
The Misunderstood,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Remains,
Ludus,
The Searchers,
The Offenders,
Michelle Simonal,
the Fania All-Stars,
Quadrant,
Anthony Braxton,
The Techniques,
Spoonie Gee,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Standells,
Motorama,
Pierre Henry,
Talk Talk,
Grey Daturas,
The Motions,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
John Cale,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pole,
Groovy Waters,
The Mojo Men,
Drive Like Jehu,
Japan,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lou Reed,
Peter & Gordon,
Supertramp,
Pet Shop Boys,
the Swans,
Livin' Joy,
A Certain Ratio,
Joy Division,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.