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 Benin and from Shanghai.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 The Saints to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Unrelated Segments. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Five Americans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yellowson,
D'Angelo,
Kurtis Blow,
Scan 7,
Aural Exciters,
Nick Fraelich,
Black Sheep,
Masters at Work,
X-Ray Spex,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Mark Hollis,
David McCallum,
Roxy Music,
Minnie Riperton,
Dead Boys,
Agitation Free,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lyres,
Brick,
Kas Product,
Cybotron,
Simply Red,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Sam Rivers,
R.M.O.,
Bill Wells,
Eddi Front,
Hasil Adkins,
Dennis Brown,
Fear,
Clear Light,
Soft Machine,
The Sound,
Marvin Gaye,
Susan Cadogan,
The Gun Club,
Crispy Ambulance,
Gang Green,
Y Pants,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Ossler,
Bronski Beat,
Crooked Eye,
Freddie Wadling,
Kenny Larkin,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Velvet Underground,
the Association,
The Neon Judgement,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Bluetip,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Stiv Bators,
Jawbox,
Boz Scaggs,
This Heat,
Eurythmics,
Dual Sessions,
Lungfish,
Ronan,
the Soft Cell,
Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare, Avey Tare.
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.