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 Seychelles and from Johannesburg.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Grauzone to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Pantaleimon. All the underground hits.
All Country Teasers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thee Headcoats 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Animal Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythm & Sound,
Flash Fearless,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cybotron,
Moss Icon,
The Names,
The J.B.'s,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Gong,
H. Thieme,
The Mummies,
The Star Department,
48th St. Collective,
U.S. Maple,
Delta 5,
Banda Bassotti,
Yusef Lateef,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hardrive,
Scrapy,
Altered Images,
Gichy Dan,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Matthew Bourne,
Siglo XX,
The Gun Club,
Qualms,
Scion,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Monochrome Set,
Quantec,
Joe Finger,
Lower 48,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Deakin,
Alton Ellis,
the Association,
Max Romeo,
Don Cherry,
Scan 7,
Brothers Johnson,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Blackbyrds,
Ronan,
Wally Richardson,
Audionom,
Motorama,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Music Machine,
Carl Craig,
Surgeon,
kango's stein massive,
David Bowie,
Jandek,
Skriet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Severed Heads,
Bush Tetras,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.