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 Turkmenistan and from Seoul.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Essential Logic to the grunge 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 Bill Near. All the underground hits.
All Pagans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Blackbyrds 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Can,
Neu!,
The Flesh Eaters,
Supertramp,
Minor Threat,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Rites of Spring,
Danielle Patucci,
Wings,
Alphaville,
The Durutti Column,
Don Cherry,
Blake Baxter,
Gong,
Talk Talk,
JFA,
Junior Murvin,
Silicon Teens,
Ituana,
Cluster,
Subhumans,
X-102,
John Coltrane,
Echospace,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Nik Kershaw,
Piero Umiliani,
Spandau Ballet,
Derrick May,
The Mojo Men,
Magma,
Y Pants,
Boredoms,
The Leaves,
Marcia Griffiths,
Pulsallama,
New Age Steppers,
Marvin Gaye,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Sandy B,
The Happenings,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Wake,
New York Dolls,
Fort Wilson Riot,
A Certain Ratio,
cv313,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Aural Exciters,
Colin Newman,
Radiohead,
Gerry Rafferty,
the Germs,
CMW,
Motorama,
Deadbeat,
The Barracudas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
T. Rex,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.