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 Burundi and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1961 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Whodini to the rap 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 Cameo. All the underground hits.
All Bill Near tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Slits record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Make Up record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aaron Thompson,
Echospace,
Cluster,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Matthew Halsall,
Thee Headcoats,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Deepchord,
Fela Kuti,
Supertramp,
Scratch Acid,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ronnie Foster,
Quando Quango,
Lindisfarne,
Toni Rubio,
Blancmange,
Model 500,
Yazoo,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Sparks,
Skriet,
Pere Ubu,
Ken Boothe,
Magazine,
Mars,
Brick,
Laurel Aitken,
Eric B and Rakim,
Robert Görl,
The Grass Roots,
Drexciya,
Isaac Hayes,
Television,
Fear,
Urselle,
Black Sheep,
Mandrill,
Sound Behaviour,
Roger Hodgson,
The Mummies,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Oneida,
Tubeway Army,
The Fugs,
Glenn Branca,
The Barracudas,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
DJ Sneak,
Bad Manners,
Masters at Work,
Andrew Hill,
The Cramps,
Nirvana,
MDC,
The Golliwogs,
The Electric Prunes,
Simply Red,
Y Pants,
Procol Harum,
The Monochrome Set,
Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans, Subhumans.
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.