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 Egypt and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 Black Pus to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Minnie Riperton. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every F. McDonald record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 marimba and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lebanon Hanover record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jeff Mills,
The Red Krayola,
Half Japanese,
The Dirtbombs,
Television Personalities,
Althea and Donna,
Sight & Sound,
Y Pants,
Visage,
Monolake,
New York Dolls,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Seeds,
Gang Gang Dance,
Lalann,
Slick Rick,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mantronix,
The Fortunes,
Arcadia,
Moebius,
Freddie Wadling,
Jeff Lynne,
The Golliwogs,
Eddi Front,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Lou Christie,
Brothers Johnson,
Kaleidoscope,
Aural Exciters,
Nils Olav,
Harpers Bizarre,
Qualms,
Index,
Mission of Burma,
Anthony Braxton,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crooked Eye,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Donald Byrd,
Drexciya,
Thee Headcoats,
Moss Icon,
The Real Kids,
The Velvet Underground,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Human League,
B.T. Express,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Maleditus Sound,
UT,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nick Fraelich,
Oneida,
MDC,
The Selecter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Boz Scaggs,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.