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 Germany and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 oboe 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 The Last Poets to the dance kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 The Gun Club. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-Ray Spex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Robert Görl,
Little Man,
Warsaw,
Tim Buckley,
Patti Smith,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Janne Schatter,
Urselle,
Nation of Ulysses,
Donny Hathaway,
Depeche Mode,
The Techniques,
Connie Case,
Arthur Verocai,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eric Copeland,
Agitation Free,
Marvin Gaye,
Sixth Finger,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Knickerbockers,
Glenn Branca,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Massinfluence,
E-Dancer,
Malaria!,
Bauhaus,
The Human League,
Symarip,
Minnie Riperton,
Organ,
One Last Wish,
the Fania All-Stars,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Barracudas,
The Dead C,
Alice Coltrane,
Brand Nubian,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kenny Larkin,
The Divine Comedy,
Grey Daturas,
Unrelated Segments,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ralphi Rosario,
In Retrospect,
Archie Shepp,
Kas Product,
The Motions,
The Cowsills,
Model 500,
Hoover,
Pet Shop Boys,
Barclay James Harvest,
Khruangbin,
Man Eating Sloth,
Skarface,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.