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 Sierra Leone and from Madrid.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Wings to the grime kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All The Jesus and Mary Chain tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rosa Yemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dorothy Ashby,
Aural Exciters,
the Slits,
Monolake,
The Skatalites,
The Invisible,
Negative Approach,
Joe Smooth,
Tres Demented,
E-Dancer,
David McCallum,
Angry Samoans,
Hardrive,
Tim Buckley,
Crooked Eye,
The Electric Prunes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Patti Smith,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Standells,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Easy Going,
Audionom,
John Foxx,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Brick,
MDC,
Traffic Nightmare,
Clear Light,
Crime,
Henry Cow,
The Remains,
Cal Tjader,
The Detroit Cobras,
Alison Limerick,
Panda Bear,
Tommy Roe,
Graham Central Station,
The Moleskins,
Nas,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Trumans Water,
Moebius,
Sonny Sharrock,
Babytalk,
F. McDonald,
Brass Construction,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Yazoo,
Grandmaster Flash,
Roy Ayers,
Blancmange,
Symarip,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Sandy B,
Alice Coltrane,
Laurel Aitken,
Ultravox,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Make Up, Make Up, Make Up, Make Up.
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.