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 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the organ 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 Harry Pussy to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pylon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Certain Ratio,
Eli Mardock,
The Dead C,
Pantaleimon,
Johnny Osbourne,
Quadrant,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Au Pairs,
Zapp,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Delta 5,
Oblivians,
Ash Ra Tempel,
48th St. Collective,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Hardrive,
Television,
Gabor Szabo,
Spandau Ballet,
Angry Samoans,
PIL,
The Names,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
The Knickerbockers,
Pulsallama,
The Modern Lovers,
EPMD,
Visage,
The Misunderstood,
The Golliwogs,
Peter & Gordon,
Ornette Coleman,
Panda Bear,
Heaven 17,
Joyce Sims,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Cal Tjader,
Chrome,
Crime,
Jacob Miller,
Zero Boys,
Fear,
ABBA,
DJ Sneak,
Y Pants,
The Associates,
Ken Boothe,
X-Ray Spex,
Q65,
Soft Cell,
Joe Finger,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Black Dice,
Qualms,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Pharoah Sanders,
Sugar Minott,
Vladislav Delay,
Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet, Sällskapet.
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.