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 Switzerland and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 synthesizer 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 rock 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 Sly & The Family Stone. All the underground hits.
All Lou Reed & Metallica tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crispian St. Peters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a London Community Gospel Choir record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Stockholm Monsters,
B.T. Express,
This Heat,
Black Flag,
Marvin Gaye,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Sonics,
The Fire Engines,
Slave,
Derrick Morgan,
A Certain Ratio,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Crime,
Donny Hathaway,
The Fall,
Gang of Four,
Radio Birdman,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Scientists,
Rites of Spring,
Pantaleimon,
The Selecter,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harpers Bizarre,
Dark Day,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Moon,
Motorama,
JFA,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Public Image Ltd.,
Cheater Slicks,
Hashim,
Sister Nancy,
The Pop Group,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Cybotron,
X-Ray Spex,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Monks,
Sexual Harrassment,
Infiniti,
The Wake,
Livin' Joy,
David Bowie,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Monochrome Set,
Buzzcocks,
Stereo Dub,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Reagan Youth,
The Sound,
Robert Wyatt,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barclay James Harvest,
Matthew Bourne,
Skaos,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.