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 Korea North and from New York.
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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 808 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 Dark Day to the electroclash kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fort Wilson Riot. All the underground hits.
All The Music Machine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every London Community Gospel Choir 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Barclay James Harvest,
The Cosmic Jokers,
John Cale,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Red Krayola,
Neu!,
Nas,
Sonic Youth,
Henry Cow,
Sparks,
The Associates,
Matthew Bourne,
The Martian,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Bang On A Can,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Yaz,
Andrew Hill,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Jandek,
One Last Wish,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lyres,
The Fugs,
Flash Fearless,
FM Einheit,
The Techniques,
Electric Prunes,
The Sonics,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Dead Boys,
Ornette Coleman,
Max Romeo,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Radiohead,
Nation of Ulysses,
Joe Finger,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Neon Judgement,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
This Heat,
H. Thieme,
Pulsallama,
Ponytail,
Ossler,
Donny Hathaway,
Joey Negro,
Danielle Patucci,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Scan 7,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Ronnie Foster,
The Alarm Clocks,
Pantaleimon,
Pagans,
Bobby Byrd,
Carl Craig,
The Dead C,
Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson, Kevin Saunderson.
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.