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 Niger and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and New York.
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 organ 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 The Index to the funk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Scientists. All the underground hits.
All The Buckinghams tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Flesh Eaters 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Second Layer,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Liliput,
Barry Ungar,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Neil Young,
The Detroit Cobras,
Amazonics,
Soft Cell,
Lower 48,
The Angels of Light,
Maleditus Sound,
Angry Samoans,
Donny Hathaway,
Au Pairs,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
8 Eyed Spy,
CMW,
Royal Trux,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Pulsallama,
Robert Görl,
Donald Byrd,
Camberwell Now,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Wake,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Fire Engines,
Ultravox,
Bootsy Collins,
Frankie Knuckles,
Derrick Morgan,
The Standells,
Bill Wells,
Tears for Fears,
Bob Dylan,
Robert Wyatt,
Zapp,
Black Moon,
U.S. Maple,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
DJ Sneak,
T.S.O.L.,
Goldenarms,
Kas Product,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
the Human League,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Das Ding,
Sexual Harrassment,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
John Holt,
Radiopuhelimet,
Banda Bassotti,
Marmalade,
Franke,
Peter and Kerry,
Crash Course in Science,
Underground Resistance,
Fatback Band,
New Age Steppers,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.