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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 DJ Style to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Graham Central Station record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Sandy B,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tommy Roe,
Black Bananas,
June of 44,
Pierre Henry,
Bauhaus,
Todd Terry,
Procol Harum,
U.S. Maple,
Television Personalities,
The Alarm Clocks,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kurtis Blow,
Black Sheep,
Tomorrow,
Loose Ends,
Mad Mike,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Ice-T,
Crooked Eye,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
the Bar-Kays,
JFA,
The Five Americans,
The Names,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Ten City,
the Normal,
David Bowie,
Jawbox,
Godley & Creme,
Stetsasonic,
Sparks,
Sun City Girls,
Deadbeat,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Vogues,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Prince Buster,
Reuben Wilson,
Parry Music,
The Victims,
Half Japanese,
Jeff Lynne,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Iggy Pop,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Surgeon,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Smiths,
Bobby Sherman,
Masters at Work,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Public Image Ltd.,
David Axelrod,
Camberwell Now,
Simply Red,
The Fortunes,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.