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 Slovenia and from Tehran.
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 1962 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Pagans to the electroclash 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 Electric Light Orchestra. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Monolake,
Ten City,
Lightning Bolt,
Hasil Adkins,
Soulsonic Force,
Infiniti,
Index,
Mr. Review,
The Selecter,
Ronan,
Deadbeat,
Anakelly,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Flash Fearless,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Masters at Work,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Hoover,
Sex Pistols,
the Human League,
Glambeats Corp.,
Motorama,
Scratch Acid,
The Music Machine,
Angry Samoans,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Shuggie Otis,
The Residents,
Brick,
Panda Bear,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
UT,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lakeside,
Brass Construction,
The New Christs,
Radio Birdman,
Sparks,
Traffic Nightmare,
Lalann,
Gastr Del Sol,
Funkadelic,
Wally Richardson,
the Bar-Kays,
Toni Rubio,
Nick Fraelich,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Peter & Gordon,
Easy Going,
Crooked Eye,
Swans,
The Dirtbombs,
The Durutti Column,
Barbara Tucker,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Camouflage,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.