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 Liberia and from Tokyo.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jerry Gold Smith to the techno 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 N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell. All the underground hits.
All Eric Copeland tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 808 and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Man Eating Sloth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
Ronan,
Eddi Front,
Guru Guru,
Von Mondo,
The Cure,
Los Fastidios,
Matthew Halsall,
The Leaves,
Eden Ahbez,
Byron Stingily,
Nik Kershaw,
Drexciya,
Sex Pistols,
The Evens,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bronski Beat,
Marine Girls,
The Offenders,
The United States of America,
Stetsasonic,
Bobby Womack,
Max Romeo,
David Bowie,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cluster,
The Martian,
Whodini,
New Age Steppers,
Delta 5,
Skriet,
Mo-Dettes,
The Fugs,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bill Near,
Moby Grape,
Supertramp,
Agent Orange,
Pharoah Sanders,
New Order,
Minnie Riperton,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
H. Thieme,
The Music Machine,
Urselle,
Gil Scott Heron,
Gang Green,
Visage,
Jeff Lynne,
Kool Moe Dee,
Circle Jerks,
Lindisfarne,
Jeru the Damaja,
Lebanon Hanover,
Half Japanese,
Howard Jones,
Blancmange,
Bobby Byrd,
Zapp,
Rhythm & Sound,
James White and The Blacks,
Ten City, Ten City, Ten City, Ten City.
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.