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 Liberia and from Winnipeg.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 The Red Krayola to the disco 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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Archie Shepp record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
U.S. Maple,
The Vogues,
Grey Daturas,
Thompson Twins,
Funkadelic,
Heaven 17,
Technova,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cal Tjader,
Negative Approach,
Bronski Beat,
Max Romeo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Section 25,
Loose Ends,
Pulsallama,
Bush Tetras,
Average White Band,
Graham Central Station,
Joe Finger,
Bluetip,
Scan 7,
Accadde A,
Kayak,
Mr. Review,
X-Ray Spex,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Letta Mbulu,
Mission of Burma,
Sparks,
Bill Near,
Mad Mike,
EPMD,
Soft Machine,
Spandau Ballet,
R.M.O.,
David McCallum,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
New York Dolls,
Suburban Knight,
Yellowson,
Excepter,
DJ Sneak,
Vainqueur,
The Toasters,
Nils Olav,
Marshall Jefferson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Minny Pops,
June Days,
Crash Course in Science,
Joyce Sims,
Crooked Eye,
Groovy Waters,
Fluxion,
Flamin' Groovies,
X-101,
Bobby Byrd,
the Human League,
Drexciya,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.