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 France and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1970.
I was there at the first Onyeabor show in Enugu.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Mummies to the dance 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 Misunderstood. All the underground hits.
All Anakelly tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Easy Going record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Jeff Lynne,
the Swans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Duran Duran,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Mars,
Pantytec,
Janne Schatter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Fela Kuti,
Icehouse,
Grey Daturas,
The Tremeloes,
Laurel Aitken,
Motorama,
The Monks,
the Soft Cell,
Metal Thangz,
Q and Not U,
Marmalade,
Warsaw,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lyres,
Sixth Finger,
Delon & Dalcan,
Organ,
Traffic Nightmare,
Schoolly D,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Blossom Toes,
the Normal,
The Move,
Monolake,
Susan Cadogan,
Tom Boy,
the Human League,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Trojans,
Kevin Saunderson,
This Heat,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Harpers Bizarre,
Man Parrish,
Quadrant,
The Blues Magoos,
Ronan,
The Alarm Clocks,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Gong,
Robert Görl,
Alton Ellis,
Pole,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Gang Gang Dance,
F. McDonald,
The Motions,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Johnny Osbourne,
Sight & Sound,
Cal Tjader,
Mantronix,
Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7, Scan 7.
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.