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 Uzbekistan and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 organ 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 Scientists to the crunk 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 Crooked Eye. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Stereo Dub record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Harmonia,
Darondo,
Icehouse,
Goldenarms,
Animal Collective,
Hardrive,
The Fortunes,
Aural Exciters,
The Flesh Eaters,
Vainqueur,
World's Most,
the Normal,
Scientists,
Bush Tetras,
Arcadia,
The Dave Clark Five,
Gerry Rafferty,
Theoretical Girls,
L. Decosne,
The Slackers,
The Red Krayola,
Charles Mingus,
Radio Birdman,
Shoche,
Skriet,
The Blackbyrds,
Franke,
Zapp,
Banda Bassotti,
Kevin Saunderson,
Sister Nancy,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Mad Mike,
Nick Fraelich,
Alice Coltrane,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Bill Near,
Roxette,
The Gap Band,
Bang On A Can,
Delon & Dalcan,
In Retrospect,
Bobby Byrd,
Khruangbin,
Roxy Music,
Funkadelic,
Dennis Brown,
One Last Wish,
Traffic Nightmare,
Scan 7,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Motorama,
Agitation Free,
Sound Behaviour,
Dark Day,
The Count Five,
Althea and Donna,
Terry Callier,
Glambeats Corp.,
Pylon,
Index,
The J.B.'s,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.