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 Seychelles and from Bremen.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Susan Cadogan to the rock 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All Fat Boys tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fort Wilson Riot 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wolf Eyes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gregory Isaacs,
Goldenarms,
Ice-T,
Josef K,
Rapeman,
Quantec,
Scion,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Urselle,
Wings,
8 Eyed Spy,
Darondo,
The Misunderstood,
Wire,
Television Personalities,
Porter Ricks,
Erasure,
Traffic Nightmare,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Kinks,
the Swans,
Nik Kershaw,
Ronnie Foster,
Warren Ellis,
Slave,
The Barracudas,
Curtis Mayfield,
Max Romeo,
The Motions,
Main Source,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Names,
Kevin Saunderson,
Bluetip,
The Golliwogs,
Skarface,
The Neon Judgement,
World's Most,
The Zeros,
Von Mondo,
Black Flag,
Lightning Bolt,
Camberwell Now,
Connie Case,
John Cale,
The Moody Blues,
Ossler,
Nick Fraelich,
The Grass Roots,
Oblivians,
The Monks,
Simply Red,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Shoche,
Leonard Cohen,
Schoolly D,
Swell Maps,
Agent Orange,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Smog, Smog, Smog, Smog.
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.