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 Tanzania and from Glasgow.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet 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 The Electric Prunes to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Chrome. All the underground hits.
All New York Dolls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Litter record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Stereo Dub,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Camouflage,
Bush Tetras,
Circle Jerks,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The J.B.'s,
Livin' Joy,
Ultravox,
Bob Dylan,
Joey Negro,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Deakin,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jacob Miller,
The Residents,
The Slackers,
Massinfluence,
The Names,
The Doors,
Howard Jones,
Bill Near,
Simply Red,
The Techniques,
X-101,
Unrelated Segments,
Babytalk,
The Vogues,
Negative Approach,
Graham Central Station,
Adolescents,
Roger Hodgson,
the Slits,
The Alarm Clocks,
Black Sheep,
Surgeon,
The Gap Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Move,
Amon Düül II,
Neu!,
Don Cherry,
T.S.O.L.,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Ultra Naté,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
KRS-One,
Nik Kershaw,
DNA,
Pagans,
The Gun Club,
Anthony Braxton,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Knickerbockers,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Trojans,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deepchord,
Colin Newman,
Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon, Pantaleimon.
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.