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 Honduras and from Sao Paulo.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Cairo.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 Ronnie Foster. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious Big And Bone Thugs 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soft Cell,
Electric Light Orchestra,
H. Thieme,
The Techniques,
Franke,
The Moody Blues,
Model 500,
Goldenarms,
Minnie Riperton,
Bobby Byrd,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Niagra,
Peter and Kerry,
Don Cherry,
Cluster,
Brothers Johnson,
The Monks,
Loose Ends,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Skriet,
The Walker Brothers,
The Durutti Column,
the Fania All-Stars,
Thee Headcoats,
Essential Logic,
The Evens,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Lakeside,
Mary Jane Girls,
Man Eating Sloth,
Echospace,
Rekid,
Neu!,
Urselle,
Organ,
48th St. Collective,
kango's stein massive,
Siglo XX,
Gregory Isaacs,
Donald Byrd,
R.M.O.,
Black Sheep,
Khruangbin,
Charles Mingus,
Aswad,
Mr. Review,
Steve Hackett,
Absolute Body Control,
Television,
Lucky Dragons,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Fad Gadget,
Soul II Soul,
Johnny Clarke,
The Residents,
Dave Gahan,
The Stooges,
Todd Terry,
The Litter,
Hoover, Hoover, Hoover, Hoover.
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.