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 Panama and from New York.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Seoul.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Neil Young 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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Joyce Sims,
Skaos,
Bad Manners,
Deakin,
The Zeros,
Kas Product,
Oneida,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Max Romeo,
Hardrive,
10cc,
Joy Division,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Darondo,
Sex Pistols,
Gil Scott Heron,
John Coltrane,
Depeche Mode,
Colin Newman,
Faraquet,
John Holt,
Juan Atkins,
Dead Boys,
Vainqueur,
Country Teasers,
Public Image Ltd.,
David Bowie,
Roy Ayers,
EPMD,
Los Fastidios,
Toni Rubio,
The Modern Lovers,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Move,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Byron Stingily,
Altered Images,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pierre Henry,
Heaven 17,
Susan Cadogan,
Crash Course in Science,
Sam Rivers,
Jacob Miller,
Fear,
Ossler,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Buckinghams,
The Knickerbockers,
Visage,
The Invisible,
Johnny Osbourne,
Barbara Tucker,
B.T. Express,
JFA,
Talk Talk,
Marmalade,
Bob Dylan,
Y Pants,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.