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 Georgia and from Mumbai.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 arpeggiator 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 Barbara Tucker to the dance 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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Siglo XX tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dead Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mighty Diamonds,
These Immortal Souls,
The Shadows of Knight,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roxy Music,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Five Americans,
the Normal,
Stetsasonic,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Ludus,
Nick Fraelich,
The Smoke,
Cymande,
Jeru the Damaja,
Accadde A,
The Searchers,
Flamin' Groovies,
Loose Ends,
Eric Dolphy,
Bad Manners,
Sun Ra,
New Order,
the Fania All-Stars,
Erasure,
Outsiders,
June Days,
Franke,
Altered Images,
Amon Düül II,
New Age Steppers,
the Soft Cell,
Severed Heads,
Symarip,
Brick,
The Trojans,
Spandau Ballet,
The Cramps,
Sixth Finger,
Sparks,
Alphaville,
The Standells,
The Alarm Clocks,
Letta Mbulu,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gong,
K-Klass,
Wings,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Jimmy McGriff,
Aloha Tigers,
Sällskapet,
Wolf Eyes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Ponytail,
La Düsseldorf,
The Dirtbombs,
The J.B.'s,
The Martian,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ken Boothe,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.