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 Papua New Guinea and from Mexico City.
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 Mexico City and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Music Machine to the punk 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 The Smoke. All the underground hits.
All Boredoms tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Oneida record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Slave,
LL Cool J,
Skriet,
Icehouse,
Anakelly,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
David Axelrod,
Tommy Roe,
the Sonics,
Pole,
Ultimate Spinach,
Susan Cadogan,
Quadrant,
Spandau Ballet,
Tim Buckley,
Saccharine Trust,
Sparks,
Matthew Bourne,
Model 500,
Andrew Hill,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Happenings,
Black Bananas,
Jandek,
The Searchers,
ABBA,
Barry Ungar,
Cheater Slicks,
Alison Limerick,
Grandmaster Flash,
Rhythm & Sound,
Stereo Dub,
Wire,
Robert Wyatt,
Ituana,
Tomorrow,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Q65,
Chris & Cosey,
Marshall Jefferson,
Arcadia,
Scratch Acid,
Man Parrish,
The Trojans,
Boredoms,
Marvin Gaye,
Joe Smooth,
Zapp,
Urselle,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Blackbyrds,
Boogie Down Productions,
The J.B.'s,
the Slits,
Bill Near,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Public Image Ltd.,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Cure, The Cure, The Cure, The Cure.
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.