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 Argentina and from Manchester.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Amon Düül to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Graham Central Station. All the underground hits.
All Curtis Mayfield tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Image Ltd. 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Suicide,
The Walker Brothers,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Wally Richardson,
The Sonics,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bronski Beat,
the Sonics,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Lalann,
Bluetip,
Eurythmics,
The Dead C,
Severed Heads,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
H. Thieme,
Eddi Front,
Pulsallama,
Albert Ayler,
Matthew Bourne,
Alice Coltrane,
Ash Ra Tempel,
UT,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mr. Review,
These Immortal Souls,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Joe Smooth,
Depeche Mode,
Leonard Cohen,
Gang Green,
Nation of Ulysses,
Flash Fearless,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The New Christs,
EPMD,
Darondo,
Flipper,
Deakin,
Harmonia,
The Durutti Column,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Absolute Body Control,
the Association,
The Raincoats,
New Order,
DJ Sneak,
This Heat,
Dual Sessions,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Mummies,
Easy Going,
Lebanon Hanover,
Jeff Mills,
Matthew Halsall,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
China Crisis,
Roxy Music,
Rekid,
Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix, Mantronix.
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.