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 Bangladesh and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1964 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Grandmaster Flash to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Animal Collective. All the underground hits.
All Fort Wilson Riot tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 10cc record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rekid record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Curtis Mayfield,
Mars,
Khruangbin,
Young Marble Giants,
Porter Ricks,
Darondo,
Lower 48,
Derrick Morgan,
Terry Callier,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pere Ubu,
Half Japanese,
Dorothy Ashby,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scientists,
Amazonics,
Swans,
The Birthday Party,
Popol Vuh,
Soft Machine,
The Index,
The Blues Magoos,
Icehouse,
Zero Boys,
Roxette,
The Trojans,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Flash Fearless,
Jeff Mills,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Jandek,
X-Ray Spex,
Sun Ra,
Maleditus Sound,
The Mummies,
Shoche,
Soul II Soul,
The Golliwogs,
The Smiths,
Heaven 17,
Connie Case,
Bauhaus,
Henry Cow,
Quando Quango,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Warren Ellis,
Wasted Youth,
The J.B.'s,
the Human League,
Al Stewart,
Eve St. Jones,
Man Parrish,
Pulsallama,
The Tremeloes,
Main Source,
The Misunderstood,
Barry Ungar,
Drexciya,
Slick Rick,
Clear Light,
Tears for Fears,
The Gladiators,
Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day, Dark Day.
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.