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 St Lucia and from Johannesburg.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Average White Band to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 JFA. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lungfish,
D'Angelo,
Pussy Galore,
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Happenings,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eli Mardock,
Shoche,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
R.M.O.,
Susan Cadogan,
Ultravox,
Massinfluence,
Sonny Sharrock,
Franke,
The Beau Brummels,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Gang Starr,
Liliput,
The J.B.'s,
Mission of Burma,
cv313,
Kerrie Biddell,
Deakin,
The Cowsills,
L. Decosne,
The Buckinghams,
Alice Coltrane,
Marmalade,
Section 25,
Alphaville,
Slick Rick,
Von Mondo,
The Cure,
The Monochrome Set,
Bobby Byrd,
The Wake,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Last Poets,
Circle Jerks,
Amon Düül II,
The Knickerbockers,
Agitation Free,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Toni Rubio,
Wasted Youth,
Y Pants,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wally Richardson,
The Dirtbombs,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Scrapy,
Eric B and Rakim,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Peter & Gordon,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Quando Quango,
the Germs,
The American Breed,
Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's, Ultramagnetic MC's.
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.