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 Equatorial Guinea and from Stockholm.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 harpsichord 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 Connie Case to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Electric Prunes. All the underground hits.
All Fugazi tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pharoah Sanders record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
David Axelrod,
Nation of Ulysses,
Bauhaus,
Danielle Patucci,
Letta Mbulu,
Peter & Gordon,
Sexual Harrassment,
Malaria!,
Angry Samoans,
Minor Threat,
B.T. Express,
The Slits,
Sister Nancy,
Kool Moe Dee,
Monks,
Freddie Wadling,
Ronnie Foster,
Arab on Radar,
Altered Images,
The Durutti Column,
Groovy Waters,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gil Scott Heron,
Traffic Nightmare,
Radiopuhelimet,
the Soft Cell,
DJ Style,
Alice Coltrane,
Pulsallama,
Ice-T,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Boredoms,
Camberwell Now,
Pagans,
Joy Division,
Minny Pops,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jacques Brel,
ABC,
Moby Grape,
The Mummies,
The Mojo Men,
Jawbox,
Ten City,
Newcleus,
Warsaw,
Kevin Saunderson,
David McCallum,
One Last Wish,
Max Romeo,
Make Up,
Minnie Riperton,
The Standells,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Pole,
Mantronix,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Yusef Lateef,
Royal Trux,
This Heat,
Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio, Gian Franco Pienzio.
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.