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 Paraguay and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Brand Nubian to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Sound. All the underground hits.
All Unwound tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Zero Boys,
The Kinks,
Organ,
Soul Sonic Force,
Aloha Tigers,
Simply Red,
Pantaleimon,
James White and The Blacks,
Sparks,
Dark Day,
Rufus Thomas,
The Searchers,
The Young Rascals,
Nils Olav,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Happenings,
DJ Style,
Anthony Braxton,
Hot Snakes,
Marc Almond,
Amon Düül,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hoover,
The Doors,
New York Dolls,
the Fania All-Stars,
Leonard Cohen,
Scratch Acid,
The Mojo Men,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Skaos,
Iggy Pop,
The Residents,
Sexual Harrassment,
Grauzone,
Darondo,
Pierre Henry,
X-102,
Joyce Sims,
The Golliwogs,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Aural Exciters,
Pussy Galore,
A Certain Ratio,
Derrick May,
Sound Behaviour,
The Associates,
The Music Machine,
Desert Stars,
The Grass Roots,
Kevin Saunderson,
Black Sheep,
Soft Machine,
The Busters,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
A Flock of Seagulls,
D'Angelo,
Moby Grape,
Negative Approach,
Moss Icon,
Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia, Harmonia.
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.