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 Brunei 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the organ 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 Dead Boys to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Tomorrow. All the underground hits.
All Cabaret Voltaire tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pere Ubu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Move record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
The Toasters,
Funky Four + One,
The Black Dice,
Schoolly D,
Ornette Coleman,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Victims,
Thee Headcoats,
Buzzcocks,
Glambeats Corp.,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Fad Gadget,
Fifty Foot Hose,
the Association,
Mad Mike,
Kevin Saunderson,
Mantronix,
Warsaw,
Grauzone,
Reuben Wilson,
Sight & Sound,
The Fire Engines,
Newcleus,
U.S. Maple,
Alton Ellis,
Fela Kuti,
Depeche Mode,
Chrome,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Panda Bear,
Dennis Brown,
Stockholm Monsters,
T. Rex,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
John Foxx,
Nirvana,
Kas Product,
Junior Murvin,
Funkadelic,
Stiv Bators,
B.T. Express,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Section 25,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
D'Angelo,
Sister Nancy,
Organ,
Brothers Johnson,
Lalo Schifrin,
Yellowson,
ABBA,
Whodini,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lyres,
Blancmange,
John Cale,
Symarip,
Banda Bassotti,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Mandrill,
Flipper,
Quantec, Quantec, Quantec, Quantec.
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.