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 Finland and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba 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 The American Breed to the techno 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 The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Basic Channel 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rhythm & Sound record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Talk Talk,
The Martian,
Don Cherry,
Lou Christie,
Popol Vuh,
Pagans,
Quando Quango,
Drexciya,
Brothers Johnson,
The Grass Roots,
Soul II Soul,
Radio Birdman,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Beau Brummels,
Scan 7,
The American Breed,
Carl Craig,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gong,
Robert Wyatt,
Mantronix,
Eve St. Jones,
Bill Wells,
Boz Scaggs,
Avey Tare,
The United States of America,
Hashim,
The Zeros,
Dave Gahan,
The Vogues,
Average White Band,
The Motions,
Charles Mingus,
Tomorrow,
Masters at Work,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brass Construction,
Shuggie Otis,
David Axelrod,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Crispian St. Peters,
the Association,
John Holt,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Au Pairs,
Soft Machine,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Niagra,
Nick Fraelich,
Hardrive,
Fluxion,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Cheater Slicks,
Ultra Naté,
Man Eating Sloth,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Scientists,
Kenny Larkin,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Grauzone,
Freddie Wadling,
Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro, Joey Negro.
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.