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 Italy and from Columbus.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Cal Tjader to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Five Americans. All the underground hits.
All The Sisters of Mercy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Heaven 17 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Silicon Teens,
The Searchers,
Deadbeat,
Gastr Del Sol,
Scientists,
Godley & Creme,
Marmalade,
Motorama,
Yusef Lateef,
Pulsallama,
James White and The Blacks,
Sun City Girls,
Jerry's Kids,
Intrusion,
Thee Headcoats,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Lightning Bolt,
Eddi Front,
Soul Sonic Force,
Black Bananas,
Lucky Dragons,
Urselle,
Icehouse,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pierre Henry,
The Blues Magoos,
Fugazi,
The Grass Roots,
Todd Terry,
the Human League,
Crime,
The Offenders,
Patti Smith,
The Tremeloes,
John Cale,
Darondo,
Hot Snakes,
Altered Images,
Rhythm & Sound,
Kerri Chandler,
The Standells,
Siglo XX,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Spandau Ballet,
The Martian,
The Black Dice,
Derrick May,
Jeff Lynne,
Ronnie Foster,
Jimmy McGriff,
L. Decosne,
Bauhaus,
Deakin,
Newcleus,
Grey Daturas,
Brand Nubian,
Cheater Slicks,
Glenn Branca,
Iggy Pop,
10cc,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.