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 St Lucia and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scrapy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a guitar 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 organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Trojans,
The American Breed,
Prince Buster,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Monochrome Set,
The J.B.'s,
Soulsonic Force,
Swans,
Sandy B,
The Grass Roots,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Radio Birdman,
Lightning Bolt,
Maleditus Sound,
Jacques Brel,
Rites of Spring,
The Golliwogs,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Human League,
ABC,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Black Dice,
Anthony Braxton,
Freddie Wadling,
Harry Pussy,
Mantronix,
Crash Course in Science,
The Count Five,
Smog,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Big Daddy Kane,
8 Eyed Spy,
David Axelrod,
Neil Young,
Max Romeo,
Eric Copeland,
Spandau Ballet,
The Blues Magoos,
Kool Moe Dee,
Judy Mowatt,
Robert Görl,
Los Fastidios,
Organ,
Marcia Griffiths,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Parry Music,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Leaves,
Aloha Tigers,
Suburban Knight,
Black Moon,
Masters at Work,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
a-ha,
10cc,
Average White Band,
The Wake,
Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken, Laurel Aitken.
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.