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 Ukraine and from Tokyo.
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 1961 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Dirtbombs to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sex Pistols tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every UT record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a ABBA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Electric Prunes,
Radio Birdman,
The Pop Group,
AZ,
The Smoke,
Qualms,
Vainqueur,
Moss Icon,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Residents,
the Fania All-Stars,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Oneida,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Toasters,
Public Enemy,
Television,
In Retrospect,
Thee Headcoats,
Jandek,
kango's stein massive,
Soul II Soul,
Delon & Dalcan,
Agent Orange,
Tropical Tobacco,
Inner City,
Newcleus,
Babytalk,
Mantronix,
Prince Buster,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Divine Comedy,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Misunderstood,
Bobby Hutcherson,
the Swans,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bronski Beat,
Skarface,
Stereo Dub,
Quadrant,
Barry Ungar,
Man Eating Sloth,
CMW,
Eric B and Rakim,
Soul Sonic Force,
Alison Limerick,
Throbbing Gristle,
a-ha,
Urselle,
the Slits,
Dennis Brown,
Agitation Free,
Symarip,
A Certain Ratio,
Marine Girls,
Au Pairs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Detroit Cobras,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Eli Mardock,
The Standells, The Standells, The Standells, The Standells.
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.