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 Uganda and from Cairo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Marmalade to the techno 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 Jacob Miller. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eyeless In Gaza record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Moleskins,
Pussy Galore,
Sugar Minott,
Rhythm & Sound,
Loose Ends,
X-Ray Spex,
Sixth Finger,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Fall,
The Invisible,
Donny Hathaway,
Warren Ellis,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Joey Negro,
Mark Hollis,
48th St. Collective,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Alice Coltrane,
DNA,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
X-102,
Wasted Youth,
Gang of Four,
Gerry Rafferty,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tomorrow,
Bush Tetras,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Audionom,
The Gladiators,
Eve St. Jones,
The Pretty Things,
Parry Music,
Funkadelic,
Fela Kuti,
Sun City Girls,
Crime,
The American Breed,
The Names,
Michelle Simonal,
D'Angelo,
The Human League,
The Last Poets,
the Bar-Kays,
Amon Düül II,
Organ,
The Sound,
Soft Cell,
Eli Mardock,
Lou Reed,
Livin' Joy,
The New Christs,
The Blues Magoos,
Spoonie Gee,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fad Gadget,
Reagan Youth,
Soul Sonic Force,
Yellowson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Al Stewart,
The Zeros,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.