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 Andorra and from Winnipeg.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Faust to the electroclash 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 Underground Resistance. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every June Days record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Prince Buster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Invisible,
Sex Pistols,
Letta Mbulu,
Pussy Galore,
Gichy Dan,
Jeru the Damaja,
Outsiders,
Roger Hodgson,
Fatback Band,
PIL,
the Normal,
The Barracudas,
Little Man,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Echospace,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Tremeloes,
Moby Grape,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Icehouse,
Rotary Connection,
Suburban Knight,
A Flock of Seagulls,
John Cale,
Radiohead,
Pulsallama,
Cluster,
LL Cool J,
Marmalade,
The Names,
Skriet,
Harry Pussy,
The United States of America,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Holt,
Grey Daturas,
Bizarre Inc.,
Pagans,
Theoretical Girls,
The Offenders,
Siglo XX,
Terrestrial Tones,
Wolf Eyes,
Boredoms,
Iggy Pop,
Jandek,
Infiniti,
Barrington Levy,
The Fortunes,
MC5,
Aloha Tigers,
Qualms,
Babytalk,
The Music Machine,
Sonny Sharrock,
Jawbox,
Bronski Beat,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Fat Boys,
Lalann,
Buzzcocks,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange, Blancmange.
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.