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 Maldives and from Copenhagen.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba 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 Ronnie Foster to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Gang Green. All the underground hits.
All Sexual Harrassment tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echo & the Bunnymen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terrestrial Tones record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Five Americans,
Oblivians,
Yellowson,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Loose Ends,
Underground Resistance,
Das Ding,
Mr. Review,
Can,
Make Up,
Wolf Eyes,
Liliput,
John Holt,
Con Funk Shun,
Negative Approach,
Roger Hodgson,
Robert Görl,
Juan Atkins,
Suicide,
FM Einheit,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Gap Band,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Smoke,
The Real Kids,
Roxette,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Black Dice,
Fluxion,
Pantaleimon,
Saccharine Trust,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Zero Boys,
Animal Collective,
Qualms,
The Cowsills,
Gang of Four,
X-102,
Scratch Acid,
Tom Boy,
The Saints,
Traffic Nightmare,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Derrick May,
Moebius,
Glenn Branca,
Goldenarms,
Gabor Szabo,
Vainqueur,
Sound Behaviour,
The Fortunes,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Freddie Wadling,
Lucky Dragons,
The New Christs,
Eden Ahbez,
The Residents,
Rosa Yemen,
Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills, Jeff Mills.
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.