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 Venezuela 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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The J.B.'s record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DNA,
Magma,
Angry Samoans,
Oneida,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Durutti Column,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Victims,
T. Rex,
The Doors,
Darondo,
Bobby Sherman,
The Gun Club,
The Vogues,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Names,
Mantronix,
OOIOO,
The Stooges,
The Young Rascals,
The Fuzztones,
Average White Band,
Magazine,
Aaron Thompson,
Jacob Miller,
48th St. Collective,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Rosa Yemen,
Porter Ricks,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bad Manners,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Martian,
Buzzcocks,
Faust,
The Mummies,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Marc Almond,
Banda Bassotti,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Real Kids,
Blancmange,
The Five Americans,
Reuben Wilson,
EPMD,
Sparks,
Electric Prunes,
Moebius,
Thee Headcoats,
World's Most,
The Wake,
PIL,
The Modern Lovers,
Swans,
Pharoah Sanders,
Yazoo,
The Cosmic Jokers,
John Holt,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo, Gabor Szabo.
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.