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 El Salvador and from Lyon.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Lille.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Moody Blues to the crunk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Brothers Johnson. All the underground hits.
All Thompson Twins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tres Demented 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Bananas,
Gichy Dan,
The New Christs,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Beau Brummels,
the Association,
Gang Green,
The Index,
Urselle,
Joensuu 1685,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Searchers,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sandy B,
Eden Ahbez,
Eve St. Jones,
Index,
ABBA,
Kayak,
Fat Boys,
Warsaw,
Fatback Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
the Fania All-Stars,
Connie Case,
Godley & Creme,
Juan Atkins,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Smoke,
Absolute Body Control,
Con Funk Shun,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Slackers,
Sister Nancy,
The Pretty Things,
Franke,
Liliput,
Colin Newman,
Minnie Riperton,
Todd Terry,
June of 44,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Chrome,
Ultra Naté,
Fugazi,
Lungfish,
Crispy Ambulance,
Stiv Bators,
The Residents,
Blancmange,
Drive Like Jehu,
Reuben Wilson,
the Slits,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Roger Hodgson,
DNA,
John Coltrane,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.