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 Mauritania 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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ajijia Myrayebe. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Clear Light,
This Heat,
Deadbeat,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David Bowie,
The Beau Brummels,
Adolescents,
Chris Corsano,
Blossom Toes,
Roy Ayers,
Accadde A,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Index,
Pole,
The Misunderstood,
New Order,
Girls At Our Best!,
Toni Rubio,
Moss Icon,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Real Kids,
Darondo,
Con Funk Shun,
Hot Snakes,
Jeff Mills,
T.S.O.L.,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Cybotron,
Sight & Sound,
The Star Department,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sällskapet,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Kinks,
The Neon Judgement,
Colin Newman,
Sixth Finger,
The Monochrome Set,
Sun City Girls,
Kevin Saunderson,
X-101,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Soulsonic Force,
the Swans,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Lungfish,
Maurizio,
The Smiths,
Sunsets and Hearts,
B.T. Express,
The Searchers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Black Flag,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Young Rascals,
Eric Copeland,
DJ Style,
Neu!,
The Fugs,
Reuben Wilson,
Main Source, Main Source, Main Source, Main Source.
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.