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 Iraq and from Glasgow.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Angels of Light to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Marine Girls. All the underground hits.
All The Seeds tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eurythmics 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Amazonics,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Thompson Twins,
The Human League,
Negative Approach,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Maurizio,
Avey Tare,
The Martian,
This Heat,
Glenn Branca,
Masters at Work,
Sun City Girls,
Brand Nubian,
Sonic Youth,
the Association,
the Fania All-Stars,
Idris Muhammad,
Trumans Water,
Lakeside,
Gang Starr,
Barry Ungar,
Arthur Verocai,
Tres Demented,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Happenings,
the Human League,
Deakin,
Howard Jones,
Marc Almond,
Pylon,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Joyce Sims,
Blancmange,
Bizarre Inc.,
48th St. Collective,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ludus,
Pere Ubu,
Bootsy Collins,
Wire,
the Slits,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fuzztones,
Sex Pistols,
Lyres,
Dead Boys,
Stetsasonic,
It's A Beautiful Day,
X-101,
Nico,
Black Moon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Fela Kuti,
Cybotron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Cure,
Camberwell Now,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone, Sly & The Family Stone.
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.