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 Korea North and from Salvador.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Second Layer. All the underground hits.
All the Bar-Kays tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Girls At Our Best! record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Pharoah Sanders,
Charles Mingus,
The Fire Engines,
Surgeon,
Echospace,
Spoonie Gee,
Reagan Youth,
B.T. Express,
Roy Ayers,
Chris & Cosey,
The Associates,
The Move,
Pylon,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Derrick Morgan,
Fear,
Bobby Sherman,
The Wake,
Peter and Kerry,
Cybotron,
Ronan,
The Raincoats,
Wasted Youth,
DJ Sneak,
H. Thieme,
Angry Samoans,
Suicide,
Sex Pistols,
Marmalade,
The Blues Magoos,
Quantec,
Country Teasers,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Black Bananas,
Ultimate Spinach,
Lakeside,
Todd Terry,
Au Pairs,
Spandau Ballet,
Radiopuhelimet,
David McCallum,
Carl Craig,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ten City,
Tim Buckley,
Massinfluence,
Lucky Dragons,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Connie Case,
The Vogues,
The Walker Brothers,
The Mojo Men,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Faust,
John Holt,
Bad Manners,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Electric Prunes,
Pantaleimon,
The Remains, The Remains, The Remains, The Remains.
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.