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 Ireland and from Lagos.
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 1962 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Circle Jerks to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Crash Course in Science. All the underground hits.
All Pierre Henry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lizzy Mercier Descloux record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
B.T. Express,
The Index,
Nils Olav,
Nico,
The Busters,
Arcadia,
Bauhaus,
Camberwell Now,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Arab on Radar,
Yazoo,
Rapeman,
The Music Machine,
The Smiths,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gichy Dan,
Slave,
Royal Trux,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Shoche,
Magma,
Monks,
Wire,
Mandrill,
Intrusion,
Eden Ahbez,
The Selecter,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Freddie Wadling,
The Standells,
Joe Finger,
Saccharine Trust,
Crime,
Thee Headcoats,
Sarah Menescal,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Minnie Riperton,
Hoover,
Yaz,
Minutemen,
Minor Threat,
Television Personalities,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Pretty Things,
Stereo Dub,
Masters at Work,
Crash Course in Science,
Dual Sessions,
Deakin,
Sexual Harrassment,
Derrick May,
Reagan Youth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Red Krayola,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Prince Buster,
Television,
Fela Kuti,
Agent Orange,
Roxette,
Amon Düül,
Gregory Isaacs,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army, Tubeway Army.
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.