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 Marshall Islands and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Idris Muhammad to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 John Holt. All the underground hits.
All a-ha tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Franke record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Starr record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Slits,
Qualms,
Rufus Thomas,
Marc Almond,
La Düsseldorf,
Maleditus Sound,
Big Daddy Kane,
Vainqueur,
Popol Vuh,
One Last Wish,
Harmonia,
The Durutti Column,
Skriet,
Eli Mardock,
Bill Near,
Spandau Ballet,
a-ha,
Sandy B,
Pussy Galore,
Animal Collective,
Pantaleimon,
Barry Ungar,
The Golliwogs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Suicide,
Lou Christie,
A Certain Ratio,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Y Pants,
Marvin Gaye,
Masters at Work,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Matthew Bourne,
Bauhaus,
Lalann,
Gang Gang Dance,
Ludus,
Rekid,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Symarip,
Erasure,
Grauzone,
The Mummies,
Zapp,
Wolf Eyes,
New York Dolls,
Funkadelic,
Hashim,
Lebanon Hanover,
Angry Samoans,
Thee Headcoats,
Lucky Dragons,
The Dirtbombs,
Goldenarms,
Grandmaster Flash,
Spoonie Gee,
Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry, Pierre Henry.
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.