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 Guinea-Bissau and from Glasgow.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pierre Henry to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Piero Umiliani 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fad Gadget record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Tremeloes,
The Remains,
Moby Grape,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kas Product,
8 Eyed Spy,
Index,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Bar-Kays,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Erasure,
The Move,
the Normal,
Blossom Toes,
DJ Sneak,
Rakim,
Depeche Mode,
Negative Approach,
Ultra Naté,
Q65,
Darondo,
Tom Boy,
Eden Ahbez,
The J.B.'s,
Juan Atkins,
Maurizio,
Chris & Cosey,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Yazoo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Arthur Verocai,
Average White Band,
Marshall Jefferson,
Jawbox,
Al Stewart,
Suburban Knight,
L. Decosne,
Henry Cow,
Joe Finger,
The Dead C,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Prince Buster,
Donald Byrd,
The Gladiators,
Urselle,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Motions,
Robert Görl,
June of 44,
Scan 7,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Mummies,
Stereo Dub,
Fear,
The Wake,
Rotary Connection,
Cybotron,
Brand Nubian,
Swans,
Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis, Mark Hollis.
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.