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 Cyprus and from Woodstock.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Can to the grime 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 FM Einheit. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
The Red Krayola,
Marcia Griffiths,
David McCallum,
Fela Kuti,
Al Stewart,
The Invisible,
Monolake,
Can,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Cameo,
Sunsets and Hearts,
the Soft Cell,
the Association,
DJ Style,
Man Parrish,
John Holt,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Last Poets,
Rekid,
Dead Boys,
Jeff Lynne,
Prince Buster,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Quadrant,
The Zeros,
Marmalade,
The Mojo Men,
Banda Bassotti,
H. Thieme,
The Raincoats,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Flesh Eaters,
Todd Rundgren,
Swell Maps,
Stetsasonic,
Anakelly,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Talk Talk,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Gories,
Mo-Dettes,
Jandek,
Matthew Bourne,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pantaleimon,
Silicon Teens,
Los Fastidios,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dawn Penn,
The Techniques,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Make Up,
Alton Ellis,
Harry Pussy,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ronan,
Lyres,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Doors,
Lee Hazlewood,
Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads, Severed Heads.
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.