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 Uzbekistan and from Delhi.
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 1967 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 Kevin Saunderson to the rock 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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Blancmange tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dawn Penn record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gang of Four,
Robert Görl,
The Gladiators,
The Busters,
Alison Limerick,
Ultravox,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Al Stewart,
Japan,
Erykah Badu,
Crispian St. Peters,
Kaleidoscope,
The Birthday Party,
ABC,
The Human League,
The Smiths,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Nas,
Babytalk,
Altered Images,
Wally Richardson,
The Leaves,
Von Mondo,
Joe Finger,
Kas Product,
Pantytec,
Brothers Johnson,
Vainqueur,
The Evens,
Franke,
Yusef Lateef,
Gichy Dan,
Eden Ahbez,
the Slits,
Bobby Sherman,
The Dirtbombs,
Roxy Music,
Scratch Acid,
Easy Going,
a-ha,
Girls At Our Best!,
Fatback Band,
Scion,
Marshall Jefferson,
FM Einheit,
Trumans Water,
Basic Channel,
Clear Light,
8 Eyed Spy,
Lakeside,
Agitation Free,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Toasters,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Hashim,
Barrington Levy,
The Five Americans,
Rites of Spring,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Metal Thangz,
Scientists, Scientists, Scientists, Scientists.
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.