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 Finland and from Glasgow.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 snare 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 an oboe 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 arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Yaz,
The Slackers,
Sun Ra,
The Standells,
Half Japanese,
Albert Ayler,
The Electric Prunes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Minutemen,
Pierre Henry,
Jerry's Kids,
The Mummies,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Robert Wyatt,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
D'Angelo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Traffic Nightmare,
Can,
Section 25,
Skriet,
Fugazi,
Angry Samoans,
Grauzone,
Sparks,
Make Up,
Unwound,
The Vogues,
Marc Almond,
The United States of America,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Josef K,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Gories,
Buzzcocks,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Womack,
Terrestrial Tones,
Accadde A,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tim Buckley,
Skaos,
The Motions,
Max Romeo,
Groovy Waters,
Fad Gadget,
Wally Richardson,
Saccharine Trust,
Cecil Taylor,
Lebanon Hanover,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mark Hollis,
a-ha,
London Community Gospel Choir,
EPMD,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Residents,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Cluster,
Icehouse,
Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe, Ken Boothe.
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.