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 Venezuela and from Accra.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Man Parrish to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Ultra Naté. All the underground hits.
All Judy Mowatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arcadia record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Black Sheep,
Tears for Fears,
Severed Heads,
MDC,
48th St. Collective,
Ronnie Foster,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Divine Comedy,
Sällskapet,
The Knickerbockers,
Peter & Gordon,
Unrelated Segments,
Vladislav Delay,
Scratch Acid,
Pulsallama,
Flamin' Groovies,
Aaron Thompson,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Soft Machine,
Franke,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Morten Harket,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Joey Negro,
Blancmange,
Fear,
World's Most,
Jandek,
F. McDonald,
Lebanon Hanover,
Monks,
Duran Duran,
Ultimate Spinach,
Anakelly,
In Retrospect,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Bluetip,
Jeff Mills,
Funky Four + One,
Wings,
Blake Baxter,
Sex Pistols,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gichy Dan,
The Martian,
Aloha Tigers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Flesh Eaters,
Silicon Teens,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
The Gladiators,
Hardrive,
The Barracudas,
The Cowsills,
Bobby Byrd,
Babytalk,
Icehouse,
Sam Rivers,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Wake,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.