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 Ivory Coast and from Lille.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 Darondo to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Section 25. All the underground hits.
All Con Funk Shun tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Heaven 17 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
June Days,
Tomorrow,
Parry Music,
Cymande,
8 Eyed Spy,
Monks,
Faraquet,
Bauhaus,
Eric Dolphy,
Arcadia,
Ultra Naté,
Carl Craig,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Soft Cell,
Jacques Brel,
Organ,
Ronan,
Harry Pussy,
The Fire Engines,
Warren Ellis,
Eric Copeland,
Heaven 17,
Joy Division,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
David McCallum,
Funky Four + One,
Bill Wells,
Joe Finger,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Scott Walker,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Pop Group,
Rapeman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Kurtis Blow,
David Bowie,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Human League,
Gang Green,
The Selecter,
Oblivians,
Panda Bear,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Roger Hodgson,
Ohio Players,
Moebius,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Lower 48,
Procol Harum,
Yazoo,
Bobby Sherman,
Frankie Knuckles,
Monolake,
The Kinks,
The Misunderstood,
Depeche Mode,
Avey Tare,
K-Klass,
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.