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 Singapore and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Paris.
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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 a-ha to the rap kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 DJ Sneak. All the underground hits.
All Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moody Blues record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an oboe and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Franke,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Leaves,
Peter & Gordon,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Marine Girls,
Infiniti,
Schoolly D,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Neil Young,
Bob Dylan,
Bang On A Can,
The Moleskins,
Simply Red,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pole,
Wire,
Yaz,
Vladislav Delay,
the Swans,
Rufus Thomas,
Angry Samoans,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Sex Pistols,
Bronski Beat,
Niagra,
Grandmaster Flash,
Soulsonic Force,
Derrick Morgan,
Nico,
Yazoo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Technova,
The Martian,
Fugazi,
Deakin,
The Pretty Things,
Ludus,
Arthur Verocai,
Public Enemy,
The Barracudas,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Arab on Radar,
John Cale,
The Young Rascals,
Supertramp,
Carl Craig,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Gang Gang Dance,
Surgeon,
Unwound,
Funky Four + One,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Kerri Chandler,
Symarip,
The Trojans,
The Fuzztones,
Chris Corsano,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Bobby Womack,
Goldenarms,
Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru, Guru Guru.
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.