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 Guyana and from Woodstock.
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 1960 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
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 Robert Hood to the rock kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Johnny Clarke. All the underground hits.
All Reuben Wilson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sexual Harrassment 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Nas,
Echospace,
The Fuzztones,
Quando Quango,
Glenn Branca,
Brass Construction,
the Germs,
L. Decosne,
Goldenarms,
Outsiders,
Rufus Thomas,
Chrome,
Lower 48,
Funkadelic,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Prince Buster,
Lalann,
Gichy Dan,
Pussy Galore,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bush Tetras,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fall,
Agitation Free,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Masters at Work,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Music Machine,
Robert Görl,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Associates,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
FM Einheit,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Radio Birdman,
The Gories,
Organ,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Pere Ubu,
Altered Images,
Skriet,
Jesper Dahlback,
Franke,
The Techniques,
Lightning Bolt,
Rod Modell,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Bobby Byrd,
Joey Negro,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Kinks,
the Association,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Five Americans,
The Tremeloes,
Wings,
Wolf Eyes,
Half Japanese,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joe Finger,
Japan,
Brand Nubian,
Visage, Visage, Visage, Visage.
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.