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 El Salvador 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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 spring reverb 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 Kerrie Biddell 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 Rahsaan Roland Kirk. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Crime record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Skarface record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fad Gadget,
Grauzone,
Morten Harket,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Bobby Womack,
Skriet,
Popol Vuh,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sound Behaviour,
Unwound,
Carl Craig,
Joy Division,
Moss Icon,
Cluster,
the Slits,
Sällskapet,
Pere Ubu,
Chris Corsano,
Minutemen,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mars,
The Five Americans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Urselle,
Masters at Work,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
KRS-One,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Byron Stingily,
Marmalade,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
X-101,
Quantec,
Lakeside,
David McCallum,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Roy Ayers,
Flipper,
Janne Schatter,
The Gladiators,
Spandau Ballet,
Anthony Braxton,
Scientists,
Radiohead,
Saccharine Trust,
Sex Pistols,
Sonny Sharrock,
Marc Almond,
Nas,
The Moody Blues,
Moby Grape,
Jandek,
Kas Product,
Jesper Dahlback,
Bob Dylan,
Pussy Galore,
Bobby Byrd,
Iggy Pop,
Throbbing Gristle,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Monks,
Babytalk,
The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds, The Seeds.
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.