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 Chile and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 harpsichord 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 Electric Prunes to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Motorama. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Livin' Joy,
The Fire Engines,
The Toasters,
Oneida,
Marine Girls,
Roxette,
The Star Department,
R.M.O.,
Trumans Water,
Tomorrow,
Supertramp,
Dark Day,
Gang of Four,
The American Breed,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Brothers Johnson,
Sound Behaviour,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Tremeloes,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Black Moon,
Zapp,
X-Ray Spex,
The Velvet Underground,
Gong,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Vladislav Delay,
The Litter,
Mo-Dettes,
Alphaville,
Tres Demented,
the Association,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Wings,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Erykah Badu,
Cymande,
Faust,
Black Sheep,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Andrew Hill,
The Gories,
Joey Negro,
Stiv Bators,
Urselle,
The Monochrome Set,
The Seeds,
June Days,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Germs,
Mars,
The Kinks,
Hardrive,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jawbox,
These Immortal Souls,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
ABBA,
Lyres,
Popol Vuh,
The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves, The Leaves.
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.