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 Sudan and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum 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 Crispian St. Peters to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Wasted Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bluetip record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Flamin' Groovies,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
K-Klass,
Sam Rivers,
Tommy Roe,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bobby Byrd,
CMW,
Sun City Girls,
Sexual Harrassment,
Jimmy McGriff,
UT,
Tim Buckley,
Rufus Thomas,
Mandrill,
The Smoke,
The Kinks,
Eurythmics,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Moleskins,
The Golliwogs,
Man Eating Sloth,
the Human League,
Audionom,
Faust,
The Young Rascals,
Alphaville,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Seeds,
The Fire Engines,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hasil Adkins,
Crash Course in Science,
Gichy Dan,
Cymande,
New York Dolls,
Reuben Wilson,
Beasts of Bourbon,
10cc,
Funkadelic,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Nick Fraelich,
Cluster,
Flash Fearless,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
James White and The Blacks,
Massinfluence,
Wasted Youth,
L. Decosne,
Chrome,
the Sonics,
The Remains,
Bill Wells,
Talk Talk,
June of 44,
Throbbing Gristle,
F. McDonald,
Fatback Band,
Agent Orange,
Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour, Sound Behaviour.
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.