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 Argentina and from Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Tehran.
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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the organ 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All Charles Mingus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stetsasonic record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Y Pants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dave Clark Five,
Shoche,
Don Cherry,
Ornette Coleman,
R.M.O.,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
David McCallum,
The Fuzztones,
Skaos,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
B.T. Express,
The Beau Brummels,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tropical Tobacco,
Roger Hodgson,
Ralphi Rosario,
ABC,
Fela Kuti,
Electric Prunes,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Cymande,
Cybotron,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Pantytec,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Joyce Sims,
The Sonics,
the Soft Cell,
Kenny Larkin,
Hoover,
Cabaret Voltaire,
DJ Style,
The Index,
Faust,
Gerry Rafferty,
Q and Not U,
Boogie Down Productions,
Scrapy,
Mantronix,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Peter & Gordon,
Brass Construction,
The Slits,
June Days,
The Modern Lovers,
The Techniques,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wire,
Metal Thangz,
Chris & Cosey,
T. Rex,
June of 44,
Mad Mike,
Japan,
Todd Rundgren,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Slick Rick,
The Count Five,
Section 25,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Agent Orange,
Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane, Big Daddy Kane.
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.