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 Chile and from Johannesburg.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Saccharine Trust to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Drexciya record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eddi Front record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Circle Jerks,
James White and The Blacks,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Kinks,
Swell Maps,
Rites of Spring,
Model 500,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bang On A Can,
Marc Almond,
Mr. Review,
Easy Going,
Piero Umiliani,
Joyce Sims,
Angry Samoans,
Kenny Larkin,
The Offenders,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Second Layer,
Swans,
Porter Ricks,
Graham Central Station,
The Remains,
The Slits,
Ludus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
EPMD,
The Divine Comedy,
Monolake,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Searchers,
Roxy Music,
Sonny Sharrock,
Reuben Wilson,
Trumans Water,
The American Breed,
Ronnie Foster,
Scott Walker,
Tears for Fears,
Oneida,
Black Moon,
Howard Jones,
The Cowsills,
Pulsallama,
Scratch Acid,
John Coltrane,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Cybotron,
Massinfluence,
Fela Kuti,
Minutemen,
The Doors,
Gang of Four,
Kool Moe Dee,
10cc,
Joensuu 1685,
The Moody Blues,
Shuggie Otis,
Nas,
Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback, Jesper Dahlback.
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.