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 Cameroon and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Houston.
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 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 David Bowie 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 James Chance & The Contortions to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Shoche tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pharoah Sanders record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson 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?
Danielle Patucci,
John Cale,
Thompson Twins,
James Chance & The Contortions,
This Heat,
Henry Cow,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Victims,
Rufus Thomas,
The Vogues,
The Monks,
Heaven 17,
Rakim,
the Association,
Amazonics,
Piero Umiliani,
MDC,
Sexual Harrassment,
Gang of Four,
Deadbeat,
Pole,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rites of Spring,
The Mojo Men,
Silicon Teens,
Lindisfarne,
Ralphi Rosario,
Blossom Toes,
Rapeman,
Rekid,
Aural Exciters,
Mad Mike,
Stetsasonic,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Young Marble Giants,
Ultimate Spinach,
Los Fastidios,
The Toasters,
Electric Prunes,
Groovy Waters,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Shuggie Otis,
The Electric Prunes,
Cluster,
Peter & Gordon,
Ronan,
David Bowie,
Warsaw,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fela Kuti,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Altered Images,
R.M.O.,
Darondo,
Bang On A Can,
the Bar-Kays,
A Certain Ratio,
Television Personalities,
The Flesh Eaters,
Parry Music,
Cybotron,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.