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 United States and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the punk 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 Youth Brigade. All the underground hits.
All Kayak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Brothers Johnson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Reagan Youth,
Alice Coltrane,
Rapeman,
Robert Görl,
Gang Gang Dance,
It's A Beautiful Day,
48th St. Collective,
T.S.O.L.,
Arab on Radar,
Porter Ricks,
Schoolly D,
AZ,
Technova,
Traffic Nightmare,
Barbara Tucker,
Godley & Creme,
Outsiders,
Johnny Clarke,
Matthew Bourne,
Khruangbin,
Jacob Miller,
Spoonie Gee,
David Bowie,
World's Most,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Cymande,
Funky Four + One,
Morten Harket,
Stetsasonic,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Stockholm Monsters,
Pussy Galore,
Basic Channel,
Aswad,
The Beau Brummels,
DNA,
Hardrive,
Gang Starr,
Ice-T,
Inner City,
Shoche,
Urselle,
Jawbox,
Clear Light,
The Toasters,
Crispy Ambulance,
Kerri Chandler,
Barry Ungar,
Thee Headcoats,
The Slits,
Blossom Toes,
The Last Poets,
Suburban Knight,
The Trojans,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Royal Trux,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lower 48,
KRS-One,
The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice, The Black Dice.
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.