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 Singapore and from Lille.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 spring reverb 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 Lungfish 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Ultimate Spinach tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Alphaville record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Moby Grape,
Eurythmics,
Dorothy Ashby,
Blossom Toes,
Cymande,
Camberwell Now,
Simply Red,
Bad Manners,
Brass Construction,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Pop Group,
Mad Mike,
Monks,
The Moody Blues,
Camouflage,
Kayak,
Sandy B,
Slick Rick,
Dawn Penn,
June Days,
Desert Stars,
Morten Harket,
The Blues Magoos,
Rosa Yemen,
Rites of Spring,
Hashim,
The Alarm Clocks,
Anakelly,
The Motions,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Ultravox,
Deadbeat,
Steve Hackett,
Byron Stingily,
Goldenarms,
Bill Wells,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Vogues,
Terry Callier,
David McCallum,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Max Romeo,
Young Marble Giants,
Lou Christie,
Nation of Ulysses,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Qualms,
Fela Kuti,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Stetsasonic,
Juan Atkins,
Country Teasers,
The Busters,
the Slits,
Gang of Four,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Harry Pussy,
Panda Bear,
Bill Near,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.