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 Croatia and from Paris.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Notorious Big And Bone Thugs to the jazz 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 The Alarm Clocks. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Pylon,
8 Eyed Spy,
D'Angelo,
Unwound,
Joe Smooth,
Al Stewart,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Litter,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
T. Rex,
MC5,
Pere Ubu,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Arthur Verocai,
Reuben Wilson,
Easy Going,
Godley & Creme,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Susan Cadogan,
Scott Walker,
Gabor Szabo,
The Red Krayola,
Hardrive,
Steve Hackett,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Doobie Brothers,
Josef K,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Cal Tjader,
Trumans Water,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Moody Blues,
Desert Stars,
Skriet,
Anthony Braxton,
Dead Boys,
Simply Red,
Robert Hood,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Accadde A,
Yellowson,
Mo-Dettes,
Joe Finger,
The Star Department,
Basic Channel,
The Offenders,
The Victims,
Swans,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
L. Decosne,
Alton Ellis,
The Detroit Cobras,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Pharoah Sanders,
Skaos,
Sight & Sound,
Cluster,
Darondo,
Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan, Dave Gahan.
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.