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 Burundi and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Lou Reed 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 Gladiators 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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All The Moleskins tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hashim,
X-102,
Aloha Tigers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Star Department,
Y Pants,
Excepter,
Ultimate Spinach,
Marine Girls,
The Gories,
Aswad,
The Sisters of Mercy,
June of 44,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Magma,
Judy Mowatt,
Zapp,
Nas,
This Heat,
Loose Ends,
Brick,
Robert Görl,
The Zeros,
Vainqueur,
The Sound,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Alarm Clocks,
In Retrospect,
Eric Copeland,
The Gap Band,
Tubeway Army,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Skatalites,
Bob Dylan,
Ituana,
The Saints,
John Holt,
Arcadia,
Lakeside,
Crispy Ambulance,
Main Source,
Franke,
Ken Boothe,
Fluxion,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Monks,
Tim Buckley,
Pharoah Sanders,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Camberwell Now,
Ralphi Rosario,
Basic Channel,
Q and Not U,
Little Man,
Pylon,
Bauhaus,
The Divine Comedy,
Joey Negro,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Throbbing Gristle,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.