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 Papua New Guinea and from Woodstock.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Sugar Minott to the punk 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 Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flipper record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mo-Dettes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tres Demented,
The Motions,
Nico,
Organ,
Funky Four + One,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Dirtbombs,
Deakin,
the Fania All-Stars,
John Foxx,
Ultravox,
Iggy Pop,
The Dave Clark Five,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Max Romeo,
John Holt,
Amon Düül,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pantaleimon,
June Days,
Eric B and Rakim,
Magazine,
X-Ray Spex,
The Martian,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Litter,
Popol Vuh,
Marvin Gaye,
The Wake,
Motorama,
Minor Threat,
Fad Gadget,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Five Americans,
Althea and Donna,
Ludus,
Gong,
Banda Bassotti,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Invisible,
Roy Ayers,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Gang Gang Dance,
Peter and Kerry,
The Gun Club,
AZ,
Adolescents,
The Mojo Men,
Sarah Menescal,
Wire,
Janne Schatter,
The Buckinghams,
Sun City Girls,
Be Bop Deluxe,
48th St. Collective,
The Gladiators,
Liliput,
Soft Machine,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Grass Roots,
Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes, Blossom Toes.
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.