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 Dominican Republic and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe 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 Crash Course in Science to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lower 48. All the underground hits.
All David Axelrod tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Sonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Banda Bassotti record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soul Sonic Force,
Roxy Music,
Lalo Schifrin,
Unwound,
The Trojans,
Junior Murvin,
Desert Stars,
Laurel Aitken,
Boredoms,
Tommy Roe,
The Litter,
Henry Cow,
The Flesh Eaters,
Hasil Adkins,
Stockholm Monsters,
EPMD,
48th St. Collective,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Slits,
The Doors,
Charles Mingus,
Boogie Down Productions,
Josef K,
Rotary Connection,
Cameo,
Public Enemy,
Blancmange,
The Move,
Public Image Ltd.,
Eve St. Jones,
Newcleus,
Whodini,
Funkadelic,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Maleditus Sound,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Guru Guru,
Sex Pistols,
Aloha Tigers,
Average White Band,
Kool Moe Dee,
Aural Exciters,
Cybotron,
Wolf Eyes,
Yusef Lateef,
Interpol,
Curtis Mayfield,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Sherman,
Soulsonic Force,
MC5,
Urselle,
Magma,
The Young Rascals,
The New Christs,
Nirvana,
The Real Kids,
The Selecter,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sarah Menescal,
Amon Düül II,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.