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 Russia and from Lagos.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 theremin 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 The Walker Brothers to the dance 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 Television. All the underground hits.
All Johnny Osbourne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun City Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Jeff Lynne,
Man Eating Sloth,
Donald Byrd,
Rekid,
Gang Starr,
The Beau Brummels,
Severed Heads,
Angry Samoans,
The Move,
Suburban Knight,
48th St. Collective,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Simply Red,
The Black Dice,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Rhythm & Sound,
John Foxx,
Leonard Cohen,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Sex Pistols,
Davy DMX,
The Dead C,
Massinfluence,
The Fuzztones,
Deadbeat,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Black Bananas,
The Fall,
Steve Hackett,
Crispy Ambulance,
Carl Craig,
Buzzcocks,
Bluetip,
D'Angelo,
The Flesh Eaters,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Todd Terry,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oneida,
LL Cool J,
The Names,
The Blues Magoos,
Zero Boys,
Prince Buster,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Royal Trux,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sam Rivers,
Kenny Larkin,
The United States of America,
Scratch Acid,
Fugazi,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Toni Rubio,
Yaz,
Animal Collective,
Joy Division,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Average White Band,
Cameo,
Letta Mbulu,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.