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 Austria and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 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 John Foxx to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Matthew Bourne. All the underground hits.
All Richard Hell and the Voidoids tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Whodini 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cure record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy Collins,
Freddie Wadling,
Skaos,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Man Parrish,
UT,
The Martian,
Amon Düül II,
Andrew Hill,
Infiniti,
Scratch Acid,
The Mummies,
Glambeats Corp.,
Urselle,
Jeff Mills,
Sight & Sound,
Sandy B,
Piero Umiliani,
Duran Duran,
Make Up,
Index,
Barrington Levy,
Mark Hollis,
Brothers Johnson,
Saccharine Trust,
Sonic Youth,
Minnie Riperton,
The Music Machine,
Icehouse,
The Real Kids,
Gang of Four,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Boz Scaggs,
Minny Pops,
Tears for Fears,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Groovy Waters,
Marvin Gaye,
OOIOO,
The Durutti Column,
Television,
The Velvet Underground,
In Retrospect,
Subhumans,
Chris Corsano,
Barbara Tucker,
Soft Cell,
Neu!,
cv313,
Jerry's Kids,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Bad Manners,
Don Cherry,
Easy Going,
Ituana,
Bang On A Can,
The Blackbyrds,
Cal Tjader,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Seeds,
Soulsonic Force,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.