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 Japan and from Copenhagen.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 clarinet 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 Pharoah Sanders to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bang On A Can. All the underground hits.
All Altered Images tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Clarke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Music Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
MDC,
Blake Baxter,
Wasted Youth,
James White and The Blacks,
Alice Coltrane,
Peter and Kerry,
Monks,
Josef K,
The Motions,
Surgeon,
Audionom,
Juan Atkins,
Eve St. Jones,
X-Ray Spex,
Funky Four + One,
Quando Quango,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Mr. Review,
Avey Tare,
The Velvet Underground,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Wally Richardson,
One Last Wish,
Curtis Mayfield,
Supertramp,
Suicide,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Sonics,
Joey Negro,
the Soft Cell,
Intrusion,
Porter Ricks,
Anthony Braxton,
Ornette Coleman,
Sällskapet,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Deakin,
Duran Duran,
Infiniti,
The Fall,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Reagan Youth,
Fugazi,
New Age Steppers,
Nik Kershaw,
David McCallum,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scott Walker,
Gabor Szabo,
Lightning Bolt,
Marine Girls,
Pharoah Sanders,
Girls At Our Best!,
Shuggie Otis,
Mo-Dettes,
JFA,
KRS-One,
John Coltrane,
Amazonics,
Zero Boys,
Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars, Desert Stars.
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.