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 Tajikistan and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Hong Kong.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Sandy B to the funk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Johnny Osbourne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Fortunes,
Intrusion,
Freddie Wadling,
Pierre Henry,
Vainqueur,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Birthday Party,
Alphaville,
Pussy Galore,
The Seeds,
Jimmy McGriff,
Nirvana,
Hasil Adkins,
The Durutti Column,
The Wake,
Public Enemy,
Kas Product,
The Divine Comedy,
Brothers Johnson,
Whodini,
Audionom,
Rekid,
Faust,
Funky Four + One,
The Pretty Things,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Swans,
Ultra Naté,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
X-Ray Spex,
Quadrant,
Rapeman,
Crooked Eye,
Boredoms,
Underground Resistance,
Absolute Body Control,
B.T. Express,
Camouflage,
Banda Bassotti,
Scott Walker,
Mad Mike,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Roger Hodgson,
Eric Copeland,
Davy DMX,
The Selecter,
Lebanon Hanover,
Robert Wyatt,
The Monks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Walker Brothers,
Masters at Work,
Bush Tetras,
Dark Day,
Mary Jane Girls,
T. Rex,
the Fania All-Stars,
Rakim,
Q65, Q65, Q65, Q65.
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.