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 Lithuania and from Taipei.
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 Accra and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ 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 Smiths to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Barry Ungar. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Porter Ricks 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stiv Bators record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cure,
The Dead C,
John Holt,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Qualms,
Blake Baxter,
Grandmaster Flash,
Royal Trux,
UT,
Radio Birdman,
Lou Reed,
The Wake,
These Immortal Souls,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Jerry's Kids,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Infiniti,
LL Cool J,
Masters at Work,
Pere Ubu,
Leonard Cohen,
MDC,
Marmalade,
Metal Thangz,
E-Dancer,
Minutemen,
It's A Beautiful Day,
L. Decosne,
Man Parrish,
Circle Jerks,
The Last Poets,
John Lydon,
Visage,
The Remains,
The Beau Brummels,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Althea and Donna,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Hasil Adkins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Radiopuhelimet,
Khruangbin,
Pierre Henry,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
F. McDonald,
Spandau Ballet,
Babytalk,
Gang Green,
Soft Machine,
Nirvana,
Lebanon Hanover,
Michelle Simonal,
David Axelrod,
Rufus Thomas,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bill Near,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sandy B,
The Divine Comedy,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.