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 Ghana and from Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 The Standells to the jazz 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 The Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ornette Coleman record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Patti Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
Vainqueur,
H. Thieme,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Mojo Men,
The Pop Group,
Cybotron,
Fat Boys,
The Pretty Things,
Lungfish,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Guru Guru,
UT,
The Dead C,
Groovy Waters,
Rufus Thomas,
Minutemen,
Bill Wells,
Outsiders,
Tres Demented,
Danielle Patucci,
Black Pus,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Walker Brothers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
F. McDonald,
Isaac Hayes,
Graham Central Station,
X-Ray Spex,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Aaron Thompson,
Prince Buster,
Khruangbin,
Tom Boy,
Bang On A Can,
Agitation Free,
Technova,
The Fortunes,
The Blues Magoos,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Blancmange,
Tim Buckley,
Crime,
Underground Resistance,
Patti Smith,
Joe Smooth,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Music Machine,
the Slits,
Josef K,
Pylon,
The Litter,
Alice Coltrane,
48th St. Collective,
Ludus,
Brothers Johnson,
Camouflage,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Leaves,
The Beau Brummels,
Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen, Echo & the Bunnymen.
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.