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 St Kitts & Nevis and from Jakarta.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dark Day to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Invisible. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Laurel Aitken,
Bobby Womack,
Excepter,
the Germs,
The Durutti Column,
Moss Icon,
The Happenings,
Aswad,
The Saints,
Stiv Bators,
Sight & Sound,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Star Department,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cybotron,
Animal Collective,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Mojo Men,
Cecil Taylor,
Yellowson,
Dawn Penn,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Monks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Vogues,
Wings,
Blancmange,
Andrew Hill,
Bang On A Can,
Jacques Brel,
Skaos,
Letta Mbulu,
Hasil Adkins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pere Ubu,
The Slits,
Masters at Work,
Qualms,
Eric B and Rakim,
UT,
Albert Ayler,
Q and Not U,
Siglo XX,
Ultimate Spinach,
X-102,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Techniques,
Neu!,
World's Most,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Monks,
Rapeman,
the Swans,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Fortunes,
The Names,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.