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 Russia and from Sao Paulo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Michael McDonald 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 Angry Samoans to the crunk 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Duran Duran record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
La Düsseldorf,
New Order,
Mars,
The Fire Engines,
Depeche Mode,
Soft Machine,
Scratch Acid,
Rapeman,
Suburban Knight,
Suicide,
Wasted Youth,
Reuben Wilson,
Outsiders,
The Dead C,
Iggy Pop,
FM Einheit,
The New Christs,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
The Gladiators,
Massinfluence,
Harmonia,
The United States of America,
Q65,
OOIOO,
Ultra Naté,
Magma,
The Detroit Cobras,
Slave,
Brass Construction,
Anthony Braxton,
Amon Düül,
Man Parrish,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Toasters,
Sällskapet,
Wings,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Litter,
Gastr Del Sol,
Grey Daturas,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Newcleus,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Erykah Badu,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Swans,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Offenders,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Motorama,
Desert Stars,
John Foxx,
Matthew Halsall,
Delon & Dalcan,
Nik Kershaw,
The Index,
Joe Finger,
Icehouse,
Sugar Minott,
The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain, The Jesus and Mary Chain.
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.