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 Togo and from Taipei.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alphaville. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Lynne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Erykah Badu,
Mr. Review,
The Fugs,
the Swans,
Nick Fraelich,
The Names,
E-Dancer,
Hoover,
Mandrill,
The Monochrome Set,
Eddi Front,
Icehouse,
Roy Ayers,
Kas Product,
Patti Smith,
The Victims,
The Fall,
UT,
The Fire Engines,
This Heat,
Adolescents,
Bush Tetras,
Rosa Yemen,
The J.B.'s,
EPMD,
The Smiths,
The Litter,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Blancmange,
The Zeros,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Buckinghams,
Tres Demented,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Lucky Dragons,
Wasted Youth,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Sonny Sharrock,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Talk Talk,
Eli Mardock,
Sarah Menescal,
The Electric Prunes,
Ice-T,
Accadde A,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cymande,
Dave Gahan,
Kerrie Biddell,
Severed Heads,
Ultra Naté,
The Music Machine,
Trumans Water,
Alison Limerick,
The Modern Lovers,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Henry Cow,
Grey Daturas,
Joyce Sims,
Technova, Technova, Technova, Technova.
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.