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 Grenada and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Kevin Saunderson to the techno 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 Oblivians. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ice-T record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Marmalade,
Soft Cell,
The American Breed,
Marshall Jefferson,
Faraquet,
Desert Stars,
Crime,
Carl Craig,
48th St. Collective,
Q65,
Procol Harum,
F. McDonald,
Minutemen,
Gang Gang Dance,
Nas,
The Mummies,
Amazonics,
The Standells,
Fela Kuti,
The Electric Prunes,
Skaos,
The Durutti Column,
Connie Case,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ultravox,
Susan Cadogan,
New Age Steppers,
Gerry Rafferty,
Amon Düül II,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dead Boys,
Television,
Depeche Mode,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Organ,
Sällskapet,
The New Christs,
Ossler,
The Sound,
The Wake,
Judy Mowatt,
The Human League,
Max Romeo,
Tommy Roe,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roxette,
Hot Snakes,
Popol Vuh,
Bill Wells,
The Angels of Light,
Television Personalities,
Roger Hodgson,
The Gap Band,
Brass Construction,
Mandrill,
Barclay James Harvest,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Slackers,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Tom Boy,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.