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 Kazakhstan and from Shanghai.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Leaves 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 the Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Das Ding tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mandrill 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wire record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Leonard Cohen,
Tomorrow,
China Crisis,
Prince Buster,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Deepchord,
Throbbing Gristle,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Boz Scaggs,
Underground Resistance,
Mars,
Masters at Work,
Neu!,
Aural Exciters,
the Human League,
Lower 48,
Subhumans,
Brass Construction,
Chris Corsano,
Spandau Ballet,
Amazonics,
Mission of Burma,
Livin' Joy,
Robert Wyatt,
Monolake,
Gang of Four,
Procol Harum,
Trumans Water,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Motorama,
Buzzcocks,
Soulsonic Force,
Sam Rivers,
Cybotron,
Darondo,
The Modern Lovers,
Pulsallama,
Hoover,
Thompson Twins,
Massinfluence,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Derrick May,
Model 500,
Television,
Shoche,
Sonny Sharrock,
Ossler,
Barclay James Harvest,
Chrome,
E-Dancer,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
James White and The Blacks,
Parry Music,
Letta Mbulu,
Cymande,
This Heat,
Loose Ends,
the Soft Cell,
Donald Byrd,
Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail, Ponytail.
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.