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 Chile and from Calgary.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 organ 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 The Human League to the disco kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All Throbbing Gristle tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Sound,
DNA,
Pulsallama,
The Misunderstood,
Nation of Ulysses,
Spandau Ballet,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
KRS-One,
The Toasters,
Blancmange,
Avey Tare,
Man Parrish,
Agent Orange,
Negative Approach,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Suburban Knight,
Oneida,
Zero Boys,
Inner City,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Motions,
Terry Callier,
the Human League,
Boogie Down Productions,
Hot Snakes,
the Normal,
Neil Young,
The Standells,
Stereo Dub,
Bronski Beat,
Royal Trux,
Bang On A Can,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Deakin,
The Dead C,
The Evens,
Mark Hollis,
Albert Ayler,
Q and Not U,
Infiniti,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Crime,
Tres Demented,
Chris & Cosey,
JFA,
Excepter,
Robert Wyatt,
Roxy Music,
Qualms,
The Red Krayola,
Faust,
Eve St. Jones,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Alison Limerick,
The Detroit Cobras,
Parry Music,
Gabor Szabo,
Subhumans,
The Monochrome Set,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.