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 Georgia and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 clarinet 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 Pagans to the rap 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 Kas Product. All the underground hits.
All Strawberry Alarm Clock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Coltrane 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Grandmaster Flash,
the Association,
Ken Boothe,
Vladislav Delay,
Nation of Ulysses,
Ralphi Rosario,
Barclay James Harvest,
Unrelated Segments,
Radiopuhelimet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Evens,
Byron Stingily,
Alphaville,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Stetsasonic,
Colin Newman,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Avey Tare,
The Knickerbockers,
Tomorrow,
Dave Gahan,
The Five Americans,
H. Thieme,
Dead Boys,
Jerry Gold Smith,
a-ha,
Joensuu 1685,
Ronan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Second Layer,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Mojo Men,
Jawbox,
Mo-Dettes,
The Selecter,
The Victims,
Harpers Bizarre,
Icehouse,
Aaron Thompson,
Aural Exciters,
Reagan Youth,
Q65,
Lower 48,
These Immortal Souls,
Monks,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Grey Daturas,
Gichy Dan,
The Sound,
Gang Gang Dance,
Spandau Ballet,
Harmonia,
Rod Modell,
Camouflage,
The Remains,
Television,
Babytalk,
June Days,
Barbara Tucker,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.