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 Pakistan and from Lagos.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Qualms to the grunge 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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All Gang Starr tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lafayette Afro Rock Band 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Radiopuhelimet record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Organ,
Inner City,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
X-102,
Josef K,
Index,
The Index,
Henry Cow,
The Detroit Cobras,
Fear,
Pere Ubu,
The Offenders,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
the Germs,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Eddi Front,
Junior Murvin,
Alphaville,
Ludus,
Public Image Ltd.,
Oblivians,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Sonny Sharrock,
U.S. Maple,
Traffic Nightmare,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jimmy McGriff,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Main Source,
The Gun Club,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Magazine,
Sexual Harrassment,
John Cale,
Eurythmics,
Ten City,
Yusef Lateef,
Alton Ellis,
Tropical Tobacco,
Moby Grape,
Derrick Morgan,
Minutemen,
Max Romeo,
Todd Rundgren,
Das Ding,
Essential Logic,
Roxy Music,
Bang On A Can,
Bill Wells,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
China Crisis,
Sugar Minott,
Lyres,
Quando Quango,
Technova,
L. Decosne,
Los Fastidios,
The Litter,
Ronan,
the Bar-Kays,
The Black Dice,
Ossler,
Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed, Lou Reed.
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.