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 Mexico and from Mexico City.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 organ 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 Spandau Ballet to the funk 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 Joy Division. All the underground hits.
All The Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a sitar 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 mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Michelle Simonal,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Banda Bassotti,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Slackers,
Matthew Bourne,
Black Bananas,
Crispian St. Peters,
Model 500,
Excepter,
E-Dancer,
The Gladiators,
Scion,
Bush Tetras,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Cheater Slicks,
AZ,
T.S.O.L.,
Anakelly,
Davy DMX,
Peter and Kerry,
Barry Ungar,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Donny Hathaway,
Sonic Youth,
Arcadia,
Eden Ahbez,
Tommy Roe,
Robert Görl,
Drexciya,
The Velvet Underground,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cal Tjader,
Aaron Thompson,
The Real Kids,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Alarm Clocks,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Nas,
Guru Guru,
Franke,
World's Most,
The Fuzztones,
The Gories,
Black Sheep,
Cluster,
Robert Wyatt,
Marmalade,
Con Funk Shun,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Golliwogs,
the Normal,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Thee Headcoats,
Alice Coltrane,
The Doobie Brothers,
Magma,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog, Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog.
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.