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 Romania and from Lagos.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 808 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 New Age Steppers to the grime 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 Severed Heads. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Walker Brothers 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Anthony Braxton record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Walker Brothers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Quadrant,
Radiohead,
Thee Headcoats,
D'Angelo,
Groovy Waters,
Peter & Gordon,
Marmalade,
Nation of Ulysses,
Nick Fraelich,
Sällskapet,
Slick Rick,
The Electric Prunes,
The Martian,
Theoretical Girls,
Scott Walker,
Black Bananas,
Erasure,
Camouflage,
Deakin,
The Real Kids,
Kayak,
Pantytec,
The Gories,
Alton Ellis,
The Cramps,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
John Holt,
Cecil Taylor,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ronnie Foster,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Kenny Larkin,
The Gun Club,
Tommy Roe,
The Divine Comedy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Amon Düül II,
Donald Byrd,
Wire,
Television,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Kerrie Biddell,
Ultravox,
Pole,
Robert Wyatt,
Curtis Mayfield,
Crooked Eye,
Los Fastidios,
The Happenings,
Sun Ra,
Bush Tetras,
The United States of America,
Massinfluence,
Letta Mbulu,
Sister Nancy,
the Bar-Kays,
Y Pants,
Derrick Morgan,
The Durutti Column,
The Pretty Things,
The Residents, The Residents, The Residents, The Residents.
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.