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 Monaco and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Neu! show in Düsseldorf.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Copenhagen.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Shoche to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sad Lovers and Giants. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Angry Samoans 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Richard Hell and the Voidoids record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Detroit Cobras,
Supertramp,
Pere Ubu,
The Remains,
Pylon,
The Durutti Column,
Isaac Hayes,
Albert Ayler,
Saccharine Trust,
Crime,
Davy DMX,
Flash Fearless,
ABBA,
Sexual Harrassment,
Nas,
Andrew Hill,
Janne Schatter,
Hasil Adkins,
The Invisible,
Dawn Penn,
Idris Muhammad,
Gabor Szabo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
E-Dancer,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Joe Finger,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Wasted Youth,
The Fuzztones,
Jerry's Kids,
Ice-T,
Colin Newman,
Section 25,
Gong,
Lucky Dragons,
Marine Girls,
Althea and Donna,
Eli Mardock,
Crispian St. Peters,
Public Image Ltd.,
Underground Resistance,
Erasure,
Qualms,
Chris Corsano,
Symarip,
the Soft Cell,
The Associates,
T.S.O.L.,
Minny Pops,
Anakelly,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Minnie Riperton,
Anthony Braxton,
Radiopuhelimet,
Stockholm Monsters,
Nico,
The Litter,
The Smoke,
Los Fastidios,
48th St. Collective,
Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band, Fatback Band.
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.