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 Armenia and from Accra.
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 Philadelphia and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Eden Ahbez to the crunk 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 Joyce Sims. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sex Pistols record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Almond,
Monolake,
Newcleus,
Sällskapet,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Flesh Eaters,
Camouflage,
Lindisfarne,
Massinfluence,
Skriet,
Fluxion,
Sixth Finger,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
10cc,
The Martian,
Lightning Bolt,
Loose Ends,
The Five Americans,
The American Breed,
Second Layer,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Pet Shop Boys,
Laurel Aitken,
Accadde A,
Ornette Coleman,
Rekid,
Alice Coltrane,
Dark Day,
The Cramps,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Camberwell Now,
Flash Fearless,
Essential Logic,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
8 Eyed Spy,
Cheater Slicks,
Sandy B,
Leonard Cohen,
Schoolly D,
Livin' Joy,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The Techniques,
Sun City Girls,
OOIOO,
The Smiths,
Cybotron,
Youth Brigade,
Goldenarms,
Animal Collective,
Duran Duran,
Theoretical Girls,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Soulsonic Force,
ABBA,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Technova,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
A Certain Ratio,
Yellowson,
ABC,
Kurtis Blow,
Mars, Mars, Mars, Mars.
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.