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 Portugal and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Joensuu 1685 to the rap 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 Tubeway Army. All the underground hits.
All DJ Style tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Coltrane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
The Slits,
cv313,
ABBA,
The Index,
Wasted Youth,
Swell Maps,
The Star Department,
Cymande,
Soft Cell,
Tears for Fears,
Ten City,
The Real Kids,
The Shadows of Knight,
Dead Boys,
Leonard Cohen,
Funkadelic,
Pussy Galore,
The Count Five,
Gang of Four,
The Doors,
Yusef Lateef,
ABC,
Andrew Hill,
the Germs,
Fad Gadget,
Man Eating Sloth,
Prince Buster,
Gabor Szabo,
Section 25,
Gang Gang Dance,
Tom Boy,
Icehouse,
Ice-T,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sandy B,
Tres Demented,
Barrington Levy,
Unwound,
The Neon Judgement,
Royal Trux,
Pet Shop Boys,
Matthew Halsall,
Pagans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Slick Rick,
Smog,
The Fire Engines,
The Last Poets,
Ultravox,
Can,
Ultimate Spinach,
Jerry's Kids,
Crispy Ambulance,
Motorama,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Delta 5,
Stiv Bators,
The Moody Blues,
Aloha Tigers,
Qualms, Qualms, Qualms, Qualms.
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.