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 Azerbaijan and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and New York.
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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Skarface to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Art Ensemble Of Chicago. All the underground hits.
All Angry Samoans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barclay James Harvest 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crash Course in Science,
The Cosmic Jokers,
E-Dancer,
Nico,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Deadbeat,
Nik Kershaw,
Cybotron,
Jawbox,
Graham Central Station,
Agitation Free,
The Walker Brothers,
Danielle Patucci,
Mr. Review,
Slave,
The Buckinghams,
Siglo XX,
Supertramp,
Joe Smooth,
The Blues Magoos,
Gastr Del Sol,
Deepchord,
Bill Near,
Babytalk,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Traffic Nightmare,
Mark Hollis,
Fad Gadget,
John Coltrane,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Eddi Front,
Trumans Water,
Moebius,
Thee Headcoats,
Curtis Mayfield,
Can,
Neu!,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Anakelly,
Todd Rundgren,
Michelle Simonal,
Gong,
Ken Boothe,
Chris & Cosey,
Andrew Hill,
Little Man,
Urselle,
Rakim,
The United States of America,
K-Klass,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Glambeats Corp.,
Juan Atkins,
Skriet,
Idris Muhammad,
Thompson Twins,
Terry Callier,
MDC,
Oneida,
Cal Tjader,
Aswad,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Modern Lovers,
Kayak,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.