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 Macedonia and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 mellotron 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 The Moody Blues to the dance 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 a-ha. All the underground hits.
All Eddi Front tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tom Boy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anthony Braxton,
Dawn Penn,
Aaron Thompson,
The Sound,
Cheater Slicks,
The Slackers,
Con Funk Shun,
10cc,
New Order,
The Smiths,
Minny Pops,
Delon & Dalcan,
David Bowie,
Arcadia,
MDC,
Donald Byrd,
Eurythmics,
Mo-Dettes,
Mark Hollis,
The Human League,
Cluster,
Ultimate Spinach,
Eric Copeland,
Organ,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Soft Cell,
Animal Collective,
Nik Kershaw,
Bill Wells,
Sound Behaviour,
Maurizio,
Moebius,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gang Starr,
Bronski Beat,
Outsiders,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Pretty Things,
Gichy Dan,
Tears for Fears,
The Wake,
Eli Mardock,
Liliput,
Duran Duran,
James White and The Blacks,
Rod Modell,
The Martian,
Cameo,
Derrick May,
The Star Department,
Eric Dolphy,
The Invisible,
Donny Hathaway,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Doobie Brothers,
Bluetip,
Neu!,
a-ha,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.