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 Saudi Arabia and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Philadelphia.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Average White Band to the punk 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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Marine Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Shoche record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
LL Cool J,
L. Decosne,
Anthony Braxton,
Subhumans,
Malaria!,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Andrew Hill,
The Fuzztones,
Thompson Twins,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Half Japanese,
Simply Red,
Lightning Bolt,
Second Layer,
Joe Finger,
Jimmy McGriff,
It's A Beautiful Day,
the Association,
Motorama,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Sonic Youth,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Gang of Four,
Kaleidoscope,
Wings,
Soul II Soul,
The Mojo Men,
Vladislav Delay,
Youth Brigade,
Agent Orange,
Tommy Roe,
Fluxion,
The Victims,
Scion,
Pole,
Bootsy Collins,
Rapeman,
Bobby Byrd,
Monks,
The Electric Prunes,
Groovy Waters,
Thee Headcoats,
The Saints,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Patti Smith,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Womack,
Buzzcocks,
Minnie Riperton,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Con Funk Shun,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Mad Mike,
Porter Ricks,
Can,
F. McDonald,
Boredoms,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
OOIOO,
Shoche, Shoche, Shoche, Shoche.
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.