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 Antigua and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Terrestrial Tones 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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Doobie Brothers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Babytalk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Kenny Larkin,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camouflage,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Motions,
Pierre Henry,
Dead Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Five Americans,
In Retrospect,
The Happenings,
Khruangbin,
Buzzcocks,
Swell Maps,
Main Source,
Faust,
The Litter,
Roxette,
Siglo XX,
DJ Sneak,
Scrapy,
Mantronix,
Little Man,
Eden Ahbez,
Hasil Adkins,
Harry Pussy,
Donald Byrd,
The Real Kids,
Stiv Bators,
The Star Department,
Dennis Brown,
Graham Central Station,
AZ,
Warsaw,
Letta Mbulu,
Rod Modell,
Nico,
Archie Shepp,
Minor Threat,
Bill Wells,
Fugazi,
KRS-One,
The Walker Brothers,
Young Marble Giants,
Eve St. Jones,
CMW,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
kango's stein massive,
Robert Görl,
cv313,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Evens,
Silicon Teens,
Terrestrial Tones,
Mad Mike,
Heaven 17,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Negative Approach,
Leonard Cohen,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.