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 Slovakia and from Seoul.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 snare 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish. All the underground hits.
All LL Cool J tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 a spring reverb and a marimba 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 mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
Soft Cell,
OOIOO,
Livin' Joy,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Pet Shop Boys,
Derrick Morgan,
Index,
Minny Pops,
Zapp,
Ituana,
Minutemen,
Excepter,
Blake Baxter,
Talk Talk,
Guru Guru,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Smiths,
Rotary Connection,
Duran Duran,
Fela Kuti,
The Associates,
Black Moon,
Rosa Yemen,
The Velvet Underground,
F. McDonald,
Warsaw,
Jeff Lynne,
Black Pus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Little Man,
Procol Harum,
The Kinks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Offenders,
Henry Cow,
Idris Muhammad,
Stiv Bators,
Iggy Pop,
Amazonics,
The Seeds,
Pantytec,
The Residents,
Nik Kershaw,
Charles Mingus,
Lungfish,
The Barracudas,
Boogie Down Productions,
Brand Nubian,
The Victims,
Terry Callier,
Soft Machine,
Animal Collective,
The Music Machine,
ABBA,
Pagans,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Yusef Lateef,
This Heat,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.