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 Austria and from Salvador.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 marimba 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 London Community Gospel Choir to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Eyeless In Gaza. All the underground hits.
All Todd Terry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Intrusion 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Yusef Lateef,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Rapeman,
Arab on Radar,
The Modern Lovers,
The Music Machine,
Anthony Braxton,
Jawbox,
Lungfish,
Letta Mbulu,
Jeru the Damaja,
Camberwell Now,
Supertramp,
The Slackers,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Babytalk,
Mad Mike,
Minny Pops,
This Heat,
Popol Vuh,
Tubeway Army,
The Fire Engines,
Joey Negro,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Invisible,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Joe Smooth,
Sparks,
The Selecter,
The Fortunes,
Parry Music,
Minor Threat,
The J.B.'s,
B.T. Express,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
MC5,
Sonic Youth,
Brick,
Eli Mardock,
Ten City,
Piero Umiliani,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Matthew Bourne,
Blake Baxter,
Gang of Four,
Groovy Waters,
Television Personalities,
Bobby Sherman,
Dave Gahan,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Mummies,
The Tremeloes,
Lou Christie,
PIL,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Stetsasonic,
Can,
Nils Olav,
DJ Sneak,
Reagan Youth,
Byron Stingily,
Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway, Donny Hathaway.
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.