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 Portugal and from Portland.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Scott Walker to the grime kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Country Teasers 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Laurel Aitken record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
John Lydon,
Groovy Waters,
AZ,
Half Japanese,
The Wake,
The Searchers,
The Buckinghams,
Nik Kershaw,
The Techniques,
Camouflage,
Vladislav Delay,
Josef K,
Delon & Dalcan,
Silicon Teens,
Index,
Public Enemy,
Sexual Harrassment,
Guru Guru,
Bobby Sherman,
Barbara Tucker,
Erasure,
Hasil Adkins,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Shuggie Otis,
ABBA,
The Zeros,
Eli Mardock,
Sixth Finger,
Brothers Johnson,
Lightning Bolt,
Reuben Wilson,
Ultra Naté,
Gang Green,
Babytalk,
Cluster,
Cecil Taylor,
The Human League,
Bootsy Collins,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Johnny Clarke,
The Angels of Light,
The Gap Band,
Interpol,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Pulsallama,
The Dead C,
Todd Terry,
Jacob Miller,
Livin' Joy,
Organ,
Mad Mike,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lebanon Hanover,
Liliput,
Robert Wyatt,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
U.S. Maple,
Grandmaster Flash,
Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget, Fad Gadget.
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.