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 Papua New Guinea and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Sugar Minott to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Josef K. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds 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 harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scan 7 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Saccharine Trust,
Dave Gahan,
Fatback Band,
Hardrive,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Wake,
Andrew Hill,
Neu!,
Shuggie Otis,
Janne Schatter,
Deadbeat,
June of 44,
Tomorrow,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Remains,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Barbara Tucker,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Wally Richardson,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kerrie Biddell,
Harry Pussy,
Mo-Dettes,
Barry Ungar,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Birthday Party,
Ultra Naté,
Glenn Branca,
Amon Düül,
Whodini,
Wings,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Easy Going,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Lou Christie,
Faraquet,
The Alarm Clocks,
Johnny Clarke,
Sixth Finger,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Slackers,
Accadde A,
Cheater Slicks,
Nirvana,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Negative Approach,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Patti Smith,
Juan Atkins,
Gichy Dan,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Basic Channel,
Reagan Youth,
The Leaves,
Panda Bear,
Max Romeo,
Brass Construction,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Crime,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.