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 Djibouti and from Copenhagen.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the güiro 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 Rekid to the dance 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 Qualms. All the underground hits.
All The Flesh Eaters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Peter and Kerry record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk 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?
Gichy Dan,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Heaven 17,
Wasted Youth,
Moebius,
Radio Birdman,
Jeff Mills,
Dark Day,
Cal Tjader,
Slave,
The Doors,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
June of 44,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Dead C,
Ultra Naté,
Joy Division,
Accadde A,
Das Ding,
Pantaleimon,
The Mojo Men,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alton Ellis,
Warsaw,
Depeche Mode,
Massinfluence,
Soft Machine,
Make Up,
Sister Nancy,
Grauzone,
Panda Bear,
The Moleskins,
D'Angelo,
Sugar Minott,
Bill Near,
Tropical Tobacco,
Hardrive,
Bauhaus,
Ludus,
Jawbox,
Tears for Fears,
The Saints,
Quando Quango,
H. Thieme,
Mr. Review,
The Leaves,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Icehouse,
Q and Not U,
Glenn Branca,
Liliput,
Janne Schatter,
Eddi Front,
Deadbeat,
Wally Richardson,
Ultravox,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Martian,
Vainqueur,
Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty, Gerry Rafferty.
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.