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 Swaziland and from Mumbai.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the grunge 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Hardrive tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Youth Brigade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angry Samoans,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Beau Brummels,
The Move,
Aural Exciters,
Animal Collective,
Gil Scott Heron,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
MC5,
Marc Almond,
Lakeside,
Khruangbin,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Royal Trux,
Janne Schatter,
Skriet,
The Birthday Party,
Pantytec,
Shoche,
Sun Ra,
the Germs,
Mission of Burma,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Whodini,
Talk Talk,
Bobby Womack,
Maleditus Sound,
Stiv Bators,
The Electric Prunes,
Mad Mike,
Kenny Larkin,
The Saints,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang Green,
Rod Modell,
Scrapy,
Traffic Nightmare,
Malaria!,
The Velvet Underground,
ABC,
Ice-T,
Gang Starr,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Fugs,
Kerri Chandler,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Blossom Toes,
Eve St. Jones,
Gabor Szabo,
Tres Demented,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Siglo XX,
Bobby Byrd,
Funkadelic,
Gichy Dan,
Joe Finger,
F. McDonald,
Kayak,
Flash Fearless,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.