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 Costa Rica and from Hong Kong.
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 1961 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Derrick Morgan to the electroclash 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 Audionom. All the underground hits.
All Sister Nancy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oppenheimer Analysis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Nils Olav record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
The Cure,
La Düsseldorf,
Subhumans,
Quantec,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Sight & Sound,
These Immortal Souls,
Joey Negro,
Lalann,
The Mummies,
48th St. Collective,
Colin Newman,
The Slackers,
Desert Stars,
Flipper,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Moody Blues,
The Seeds,
Erykah Badu,
The Zeros,
Average White Band,
Bobby Byrd,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Music Machine,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gang Starr,
Gastr Del Sol,
kango's stein massive,
Severed Heads,
Derrick Morgan,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Black Moon,
Spandau Ballet,
The Dirtbombs,
Gichy Dan,
Iggy Pop,
Throbbing Gristle,
David McCallum,
Moby Grape,
The Smiths,
The Move,
Dorothy Ashby,
Qualms,
The Detroit Cobras,
Goldenarms,
Ultra Naté,
Delta 5,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Leaves,
The Flesh Eaters,
Eddi Front,
Warren Ellis,
Kerrie Biddell,
Jeff Mills,
Mary Jane Girls,
Arthur Verocai,
Essential Logic,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Mr. Review,
the Bar-Kays,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.