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 Uganda and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Salvador.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Rosa Yemen to the punk 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 Fad Gadget. All the underground hits.
All Lebanon Hanover tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Eating Sloth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Busters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
The Blackbyrds,
Gregory Isaacs,
Severed Heads,
Man Parrish,
Anakelly,
Judy Mowatt,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pole,
Pylon,
Con Funk Shun,
Joyce Sims,
Amon Düül,
Skriet,
Connie Case,
Marc Almond,
Cecil Taylor,
Bobby Sherman,
UT,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Victims,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Frankie Knuckles,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Bizarre Inc.,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Fuzztones,
Visage,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Circle Jerks,
Terrestrial Tones,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Ronan,
Blake Baxter,
Eric B and Rakim,
Magazine,
T. Rex,
Slick Rick,
The Human League,
the Association,
Can,
Susan Cadogan,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
John Foxx,
Pagans,
Crash Course in Science,
Roxette,
Lakeside,
Goldenarms,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Jawbox,
Jeru the Damaja,
Deepchord,
Das Ding,
Flipper,
Idris Muhammad,
The Count Five,
Gichy Dan,
New York Dolls,
June Days,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.