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 Iran and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Bronski Beat show in Brixton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1968 at the first Can practice in a loft in Cologne.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Talk Talk to the techno 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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Lightning Bolt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 sitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Hutcherson,
The Evens,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Stooges,
Y Pants,
Hasil Adkins,
Dennis Brown,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Public Image Ltd.,
Deakin,
the Soft Cell,
Bob Dylan,
The Smoke,
New Age Steppers,
The Martian,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Schoolly D,
Pulsallama,
Alton Ellis,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Donny Hathaway,
The Doors,
The Velvet Underground,
Joe Smooth,
The Divine Comedy,
The Birthday Party,
Thompson Twins,
Surgeon,
Boredoms,
The United States of America,
Unrelated Segments,
The Fortunes,
Man Eating Sloth,
Rapeman,
The Pretty Things,
Albert Ayler,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Fad Gadget,
The Skatalites,
Marc Almond,
Marmalade,
Desert Stars,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Vogues,
Erasure,
Shuggie Otis,
The Fuzztones,
Joensuu 1685,
Angry Samoans,
Tears for Fears,
Pagans,
the Sonics,
Fugazi,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Rakim,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pet Shop Boys,
Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front, Eddi Front.
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.