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 Honduras and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1967 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the 808 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 Shuggie Otis to the dance 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 Funky Four + One. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Henry Cow 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The American Breed record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
a-ha,
Angry Samoans,
ABC,
Erasure,
Black Flag,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Standells,
DJ Style,
Zero Boys,
Rufus Thomas,
Liliput,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Matthew Halsall,
Barry Ungar,
the Association,
DNA,
The Gun Club,
Roxette,
Mad Mike,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bang On A Can,
Arcadia,
Can,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
the Fania All-Stars,
Johnny Clarke,
Alison Limerick,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Pylon,
Sonic Youth,
Audionom,
Gang Starr,
Spoonie Gee,
The Slits,
Pierre Henry,
Camouflage,
Lyres,
The Doors,
Zapp,
Jandek,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Sugar Minott,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bill Wells,
Grauzone,
Dorothy Ashby,
Nick Fraelich,
Dennis Brown,
Moebius,
Bauhaus,
The Walker Brothers,
Oneida,
Peter & Gordon,
Big Daddy Kane,
Terrestrial Tones,
Janne Schatter,
MDC,
Cluster,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.