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 Germany and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Barclay James Harvest to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Delta 5. All the underground hits.
All Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sound 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
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 Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Gastr Del Sol,
Depeche Mode,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Germs,
Boredoms,
the Swans,
John Foxx,
Country Teasers,
The J.B.'s,
Mad Mike,
Black Moon,
Minutemen,
Main Source,
Bobbi Humphrey,
JFA,
June of 44,
Josef K,
Sam Rivers,
Joe Finger,
Pagans,
Pet Shop Boys,
Ice-T,
Jerry's Kids,
Thee Headcoats,
Moss Icon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
UT,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Cameo,
The Smoke,
Fad Gadget,
Ohio Players,
Crime,
Masters at Work,
T. Rex,
New Age Steppers,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Newcleus,
The Fugs,
The Gap Band,
Althea and Donna,
Dual Sessions,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harpers Bizarre,
Kayak,
The Sonics,
K-Klass,
Stetsasonic,
Man Parrish,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Matthew Bourne,
The Mummies,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Bronski Beat,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
H. Thieme,
Neil Young,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Electric Prunes,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.