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 Congo and from London.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the 808 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 Q and Not U to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz. All the underground hits.
All Sonic Youth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gladiators record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harmonia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Circle Jerks,
Dual Sessions,
World's Most,
Intrusion,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Slave,
Crispian St. Peters,
John Holt,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cowsills,
Ultravox,
Talk Talk,
The Doors,
Scott Walker,
Moss Icon,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Iggy Pop,
Nirvana,
The Moleskins,
The Durutti Column,
The Pretty Things,
Big Daddy Kane,
Kurtis Blow,
Faust,
Prince Buster,
The Fugs,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Walker Brothers,
kango's stein massive,
New Order,
Pharoah Sanders,
New York Dolls,
Hasil Adkins,
David Axelrod,
Monolake,
Todd Terry,
Minnie Riperton,
Loose Ends,
Grey Daturas,
Eurythmics,
Terry Callier,
A Flock of Seagulls,
DNA,
Con Funk Shun,
Sun Ra,
Nico,
Suicide,
Make Up,
Neil Young,
Brass Construction,
Pierre Henry,
The Last Poets,
Harmonia,
Barry Ungar,
Japan,
Darondo,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The United States of America,
Roxette, Roxette, Roxette, Roxette.
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.