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 Sudan and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Delhi.
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 rhodes 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 The Remains 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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Maurizio tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Germs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
The Tremeloes,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Anthony Braxton,
AZ,
Cal Tjader,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Unwound,
Little Man,
The United States of America,
Wolf Eyes,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Swell Maps,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Wally Richardson,
Intrusion,
Von Mondo,
Joensuu 1685,
Crash Course in Science,
The Remains,
Andrew Hill,
Sandy B,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bush Tetras,
Whodini,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Magma,
Mandrill,
Talk Talk,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Supertramp,
Eddi Front,
The American Breed,
Mo-Dettes,
The Names,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Fat Boys,
The Music Machine,
Matthew Halsall,
The Fire Engines,
Aaron Thompson,
Morten Harket,
Kurtis Blow,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Pretty Things,
Saccharine Trust,
Nico,
Urselle,
Skaos,
The Birthday Party,
Terry Callier,
Black Flag,
Pantaleimon,
Johnny Clarke,
Amon Düül,
Tomorrow,
Unrelated Segments,
Rosa Yemen,
Rufus Thomas,
Jandek,
The Stooges,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx, Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx.
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.