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 Ghana and from Beijing.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mexico City and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Busters to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Man Parrish,
Kaleidoscope,
Khruangbin,
John Holt,
Joensuu 1685,
Bobby Womack,
Joe Smooth,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Susan Cadogan,
Tomorrow,
The Offenders,
The Sonics,
Average White Band,
Severed Heads,
Angry Samoans,
Bootsy Collins,
Organ,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Arthur Verocai,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Livin' Joy,
Heaven 17,
Nico,
Morten Harket,
Blancmange,
The Walker Brothers,
Mr. Review,
Royal Trux,
Bobby Sherman,
Bill Wells,
Dual Sessions,
Bluetip,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Smoke,
The Monks,
One Last Wish,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Neu!,
Shuggie Otis,
Bizarre Inc.,
The J.B.'s,
Kurtis Blow,
Bad Manners,
Ludus,
Alton Ellis,
Joe Finger,
R.M.O.,
Bang On A Can,
Whodini,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Gap Band,
Hoover,
Byron Stingily,
The Move,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Robert Görl,
Barrington Levy,
Schoolly D,
Fatback Band,
The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters, The Flesh Eaters.
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.