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 Thailand and from Bremen.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and London.
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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Donald Byrd to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sixth Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Ultra Naté record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Aural Exciters,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Modern Lovers,
Yaz,
Freddie Wadling,
Aaron Thompson,
Frankie Knuckles,
Motorama,
Derrick Morgan,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bad Manners,
Visage,
The Names,
Bill Near,
Kurtis Blow,
Moebius,
The Kinks,
Metal Thangz,
Marcia Griffiths,
Moby Grape,
Sun City Girls,
the Human League,
B.T. Express,
Urselle,
Can,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Black Pus,
Lalo Schifrin,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crispy Ambulance,
Depeche Mode,
The Doors,
Jerry Gold Smith,
the Swans,
Joe Finger,
New Order,
Wasted Youth,
The Misunderstood,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Moleskins,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Easy Going,
The Smoke,
Jawbox,
Absolute Body Control,
Kool Moe Dee,
Technova,
Bluetip,
Anakelly,
Lucky Dragons,
Ken Boothe,
Tres Demented,
Lakeside,
Matthew Halsall,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mr. Review,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now, Camberwell Now.
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.