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 Paraguay and from Manchester.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 marimba 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 Index to the dance kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 James Chance & The Contortions. All the underground hits.
All The Last Poets tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Inner City record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobbi Humphrey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Beau Brummels,
Sandy B,
Gabor Szabo,
Skaos,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Ossler,
Angry Samoans,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Stetsasonic,
Ultra Naté,
Guru Guru,
The Barracudas,
Magma,
China Crisis,
Andrew Hill,
Nico,
Marine Girls,
Roxy Music,
Derrick May,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Drexciya,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Glambeats Corp.,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Banda Bassotti,
Sarah Menescal,
Thee Headcoats,
Isaac Hayes,
Newcleus,
Carl Craig,
Yazoo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Silicon Teens,
Tom Boy,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minny Pops,
Qualms,
Boz Scaggs,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Monks,
Nirvana,
Surgeon,
The Tremeloes,
F. McDonald,
Barrington Levy,
48th St. Collective,
Public Enemy,
Suburban Knight,
L. Decosne,
Peter and Kerry,
Country Teasers,
Ralphi Rosario,
Shuggie Otis,
Section 25,
Wally Richardson,
DJ Style,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Coltrane,
Ornette Coleman,
Aaron Thompson,
Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh, Popol Vuh.
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.