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 Niger and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Man Eating Sloth to the jazz 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 Infiniti. All the underground hits.
All The Invisible tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dead C 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Grauzone,
The Last Poets,
Toni Rubio,
Roxette,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Dead C,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Talk Talk,
Kas Product,
the Slits,
Outsiders,
Marshall Jefferson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Connie Case,
Brass Construction,
Cheater Slicks,
Tom Boy,
F. McDonald,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pulsallama,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rites of Spring,
Deadbeat,
Mary Jane Girls,
Charles Mingus,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Skriet,
Minny Pops,
The Searchers,
PIL,
Yazoo,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sound Behaviour,
Clear Light,
Ronnie Foster,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ash Ra Tempel,
This Heat,
The Standells,
Electric Prunes,
Gong,
The American Breed,
Moby Grape,
Amon Düül II,
Intrusion,
ABC,
Newcleus,
Pussy Galore,
Al Stewart,
Wolf Eyes,
Make Up,
Excepter,
Wings,
Nas,
Matthew Halsall,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Dual Sessions,
the Human League,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.