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 Greece and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 marimba 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 Maurizio to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Cowsills record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crispian St. Peters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sugar Minott,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Barrington Levy,
The Happenings,
Guru Guru,
Bill Wells,
Vladislav Delay,
Harmonia,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Agitation Free,
Jerry's Kids,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Crooked Eye,
John Holt,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Swans,
Cymande,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Banda Bassotti,
Porter Ricks,
Joensuu 1685,
Janne Schatter,
Judy Mowatt,
Scan 7,
Freddie Wadling,
Cheater Slicks,
The Offenders,
Alice Coltrane,
Youth Brigade,
Das Ding,
Oblivians,
Los Fastidios,
Big Daddy Kane,
This Heat,
Lungfish,
Flamin' Groovies,
Kool Moe Dee,
Jandek,
Josef K,
Mad Mike,
Tres Demented,
Soft Machine,
Reagan Youth,
Gastr Del Sol,
Index,
The Buckinghams,
Accadde A,
Stereo Dub,
Siglo XX,
June Days,
Bang On A Can,
The Smoke,
Andrew Hill,
E-Dancer,
Panda Bear,
X-Ray Spex,
Faust,
The Fall,
Peter & Gordon,
Masters at Work,
CMW,
Crime, Crime, Crime, Crime.
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.