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 Congo and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 AZ to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Visage. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Moleskins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
Minutemen,
Moby Grape,
Loose Ends,
Bill Wells,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Magma,
Wolf Eyes,
Adolescents,
Fatback Band,
Cal Tjader,
The Gladiators,
Sister Nancy,
Mantronix,
Gang of Four,
Stereo Dub,
Kaleidoscope,
The Electric Prunes,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Minor Threat,
8 Eyed Spy,
Peter and Kerry,
Eddi Front,
Index,
The Monochrome Set,
DJ Style,
The Offenders,
Lungfish,
The Vogues,
Eden Ahbez,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sandy B,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Pole,
Susan Cadogan,
Dennis Brown,
Mad Mike,
The Human League,
Arab on Radar,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Ronnie Foster,
The Last Poets,
Gang Green,
Peter & Gordon,
Mandrill,
Hot Snakes,
Al Stewart,
UT,
Man Parrish,
Livin' Joy,
Brothers Johnson,
Newcleus,
the Fania All-Stars,
Andrew Hill,
Easy Going,
Thee Headcoats,
Marmalade,
Chrome,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Deadbeat,
The Barracudas,
Idris Muhammad,
Faust, Faust, Faust, Faust.
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.