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 Germany and from Milan.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 arpeggiator 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 Todd Rundgren to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Saccharine Trust tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang on a Can All-Stars record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Goldenarms record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jimmy McGriff,
James White and The Blacks,
Oneida,
Funky Four + One,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Juan Atkins,
Niagra,
Janne Schatter,
Gong,
Arthur Verocai,
Sandy B,
the Germs,
Mark Hollis,
Deakin,
Man Parrish,
Quadrant,
Warsaw,
Yellowson,
Tres Demented,
The Alarm Clocks,
Siglo XX,
The Martian,
Circle Jerks,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Blackbyrds,
X-102,
Kerrie Biddell,
Barrington Levy,
The Real Kids,
Carl Craig,
Michelle Simonal,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Brick,
Second Layer,
The Selecter,
The Trojans,
Sun Ra,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Buckinghams,
The Young Rascals,
Soft Machine,
Hardrive,
The Stooges,
Half Japanese,
Cecil Taylor,
Graham Central Station,
Roxette,
Rakim,
Slave,
June of 44,
Johnny Clarke,
Soul II Soul,
This Heat,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Pylon,
Moebius,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
ABC,
Quando Quango,
Nirvana,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jawbox,
Bootsy Collins,
Darondo, Darondo, Darondo, Darondo.
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.