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 Burkina and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Heaven 17 to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Cheater Slicks. All the underground hits.
All New Age Steppers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alton Ellis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Rundgren record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Model 500,
Yellowson,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Alphaville,
Fat Boys,
the Slits,
Eric B and Rakim,
Von Mondo,
Rod Modell,
Camouflage,
8 Eyed Spy,
Peter and Kerry,
Mad Mike,
The Knickerbockers,
Anakelly,
Steve Hackett,
Sonny Sharrock,
Guru Guru,
Altered Images,
Amazonics,
Pierre Henry,
Pulsallama,
The Seeds,
The Stooges,
The Gories,
MC5,
Quadrant,
Motorama,
The Mummies,
Michelle Simonal,
The Fire Engines,
Carl Craig,
James White and The Blacks,
The Fugs,
Robert Görl,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Holt,
the Soft Cell,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Loose Ends,
Blancmange,
Rosa Yemen,
Radiohead,
Minny Pops,
The Invisible,
Youth Brigade,
Derrick May,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Drexciya,
The Durutti Column,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Fall,
The Victims,
Moss Icon,
The Leaves,
ABC,
Essential Logic,
Shoche,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.