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 Sierra Leone and from Tokyo.
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 1964 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Harry Pussy to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Danielle Patucci record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ash Ra Tempel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Electric Prunes,
Subhumans,
T.S.O.L.,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Tremeloes,
The Mummies,
Monks,
Public Image Ltd.,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Easy Going,
Basic Channel,
The Saints,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Grass Roots,
The Fall,
Yellowson,
New Age Steppers,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Young Rascals,
Judy Mowatt,
Brick,
Althea and Donna,
Duran Duran,
Niagra,
Morten Harket,
Funkadelic,
Masters at Work,
China Crisis,
Theoretical Girls,
Al Stewart,
Siglo XX,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
New Order,
The Count Five,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Arab on Radar,
Erasure,
A Certain Ratio,
Porter Ricks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Drive Like Jehu,
Dorothy Ashby,
Carl Craig,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Magma,
The Doobie Brothers,
Jerry's Kids,
Pantaleimon,
X-Ray Spex,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
ABBA,
the Soft Cell,
Arcadia,
Bobby Byrd,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Bobby Sherman,
Deakin,
Gong,
Ossler,
Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses, Liaisons Dangereuses.
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.