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 Kuwait and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 marimba 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 Los Fastidios to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lungfish. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
These Immortal Souls,
The Tremeloes,
Lucky Dragons,
F. McDonald,
The Saints,
The Count Five,
Outsiders,
The New Christs,
Spoonie Gee,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Detroit Cobras,
LL Cool J,
Fela Kuti,
Quando Quango,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Yaz,
In Retrospect,
Black Bananas,
Cymande,
The Sound,
Model 500,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Max Romeo,
Jerry's Kids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Pantytec,
Derrick May,
Judy Mowatt,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
June of 44,
Neil Young,
Al Stewart,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Move,
Carl Craig,
Marc Almond,
Mary Jane Girls,
Absolute Body Control,
Vainqueur,
Idris Muhammad,
Sex Pistols,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Residents,
The Pretty Things,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Drexciya,
Ten City,
James White and The Blacks,
Circle Jerks,
the Fania All-Stars,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Patti Smith,
Can,
Gichy Dan,
Con Funk Shun,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deepchord,
Main Source,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light, The Angels of Light.
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.