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 Turkey and from New York.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 The Alarm Clocks to the jazz 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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Jimmy McGriff tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zapp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Simply Red,
Oneida,
Wire,
Mantronix,
Toni Rubio,
Nik Kershaw,
Althea and Donna,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marmalade,
Fluxion,
Skriet,
Camberwell Now,
Can,
R.M.O.,
Sandy B,
The Leaves,
Y Pants,
The Stooges,
F. McDonald,
Slave,
Kas Product,
Flamin' Groovies,
Excepter,
The Happenings,
The Dead C,
Depeche Mode,
Stereo Dub,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Stiv Bators,
Rites of Spring,
Von Mondo,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
a-ha,
Slick Rick,
Half Japanese,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Robert Görl,
Deadbeat,
Juan Atkins,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Smoke,
The Doobie Brothers,
Echospace,
Nas,
X-Ray Spex,
Los Fastidios,
The Sonics,
June Days,
Bill Near,
Gregory Isaacs,
Josef K,
PIL,
Dual Sessions,
Clear Light,
Scion,
Au Pairs,
Iggy Pop,
The Flesh Eaters,
Archie Shepp,
U.S. Maple,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Zapp,
Sparks, Sparks, Sparks, Sparks.
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.