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 Macedonia and from Lille.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Pierre Henry to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 K-Klass. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
The United States of America,
Das Ding,
Freddie Wadling,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Dead C,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Cluster,
The Searchers,
Funky Four + One,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Tremeloes,
Can,
The Neon Judgement,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Juan Atkins,
The Gories,
Icehouse,
The Electric Prunes,
Sun Ra,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Barry Ungar,
Country Teasers,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Scott Walker,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Dennis Brown,
Hardrive,
F. McDonald,
Delon & Dalcan,
Cameo,
Davy DMX,
Eden Ahbez,
Lalo Schifrin,
Silicon Teens,
a-ha,
Ultimate Spinach,
John Coltrane,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Interpol,
Alison Limerick,
The Cramps,
Nation of Ulysses,
Faraquet,
Aural Exciters,
The Smiths,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Funkadelic,
Sixth Finger,
Brothers Johnson,
Boogie Down Productions,
48th St. Collective,
Minutemen,
Amon Düül II,
New Age Steppers,
Q and Not U,
Ludus,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Robert Görl,
Liliput, Liliput, Liliput, Liliput.
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.