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 Algeria and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 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 Roger Hodgson to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bauhaus record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
kango's stein massive,
Soft Machine,
Brass Construction,
Curtis Mayfield,
Pere Ubu,
Glenn Branca,
Roxette,
Ten City,
Girls At Our Best!,
Arthur Verocai,
Kenny Larkin,
The Durutti Column,
Peter and Kerry,
Aaron Thompson,
Pierre Henry,
DJ Style,
James White and The Blacks,
Don Cherry,
Davy DMX,
Japan,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Byrd,
The Beau Brummels,
Heaven 17,
The Monks,
Neu!,
Swans,
The Modern Lovers,
Charles Mingus,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Bill Wells,
Tim Buckley,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Boz Scaggs,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Gap Band,
Lalo Schifrin,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Bob Dylan,
The Star Department,
Roger Hodgson,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Archie Shepp,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Reed,
Stockholm Monsters,
the Bar-Kays,
Vladislav Delay,
H. Thieme,
Black Moon,
Nation of Ulysses,
David McCallum,
Banda Bassotti,
Gong,
Franke,
John Foxx,
Pantaleimon,
Gerry Rafferty,
Half Japanese,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.