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 Georgia and from Copenhagen.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 guitar 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 Funky Four + One to the electroclash 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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Gang Gang Dance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Laurel Aitken 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Excepter,
Moebius,
Qualms,
Amon Düül,
Boogie Down Productions,
Pylon,
Tropical Tobacco,
Barry Ungar,
Connie Case,
Clear Light,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
L. Decosne,
Matthew Bourne,
Bad Manners,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Simply Red,
One Last Wish,
K-Klass,
Gastr Del Sol,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Rotary Connection,
Faraquet,
The Index,
Talk Talk,
Television,
Frankie Knuckles,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Hot Snakes,
JFA,
The Fortunes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Buzzcocks,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Swans,
Cheater Slicks,
Swell Maps,
Fad Gadget,
These Immortal Souls,
Hoover,
Ludus,
The Star Department,
Lakeside,
Henry Cow,
Kas Product,
Robert Wyatt,
Agent Orange,
Sixth Finger,
Donald Byrd,
The Mummies,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Vainqueur,
Eric B and Rakim,
the Sonics,
Davy DMX,
Tim Buckley,
Bill Near,
John Coltrane,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
UT,
Echospace,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Misunderstood,
the Bar-Kays,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.