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 Belgium and from Edmonton.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Bobby Womack. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Kaleidoscope,
The Modern Lovers,
Maurizio,
Deadbeat,
The Associates,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
UT,
The Standells,
Crime,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
U.S. Maple,
The Monochrome Set,
Con Funk Shun,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Joensuu 1685,
Stetsasonic,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Star Department,
Anakelly,
Aaron Thompson,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Whodini,
Cal Tjader,
Tommy Roe,
Das Ding,
The Monks,
Dual Sessions,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Ice-T,
Symarip,
Tim Buckley,
Faust,
X-102,
The Grass Roots,
Ponytail,
The Music Machine,
Bang On A Can,
Neil Young,
Erykah Badu,
The Move,
Icehouse,
Eli Mardock,
The Motions,
Danielle Patucci,
Basic Channel,
The Wake,
Minor Threat,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Rufus Thomas,
The Neon Judgement,
PIL,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeru the Damaja,
Ten City,
Television,
Roy Ayers,
10cc,
Buzzcocks,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies, The Mummies.
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.