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 Saudi Arabia and from Columbus.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Kenny Larkin to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All B.T. Express tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
The Divine Comedy,
DNA,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Mandrill,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Barracudas,
Colin Newman,
The Smoke,
Eden Ahbez,
Ohio Players,
Throbbing Gristle,
Idris Muhammad,
Moby Grape,
Interpol,
Bob Dylan,
Patti Smith,
the Human League,
Masters at Work,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Josef K,
Chris & Cosey,
Barclay James Harvest,
Donald Byrd,
Moss Icon,
Sonic Youth,
Massinfluence,
Sarah Menescal,
Lou Reed,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Ludus,
Brick,
Chrome,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Duran Duran,
Jeff Lynne,
Jacob Miller,
Dave Gahan,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
MC5,
The Blues Magoos,
Mary Jane Girls,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Grass Roots,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Yusef Lateef,
Dual Sessions,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crash Course in Science,
Kas Product,
Marc Almond,
Banda Bassotti,
The Toasters,
The Zeros,
John Foxx,
The Martian,
The Modern Lovers,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Sandy B,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Wasted Youth,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.