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 Philippines and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 arpeggiator 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Los Fastidios. All the underground hits.
All Aaron Thompson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Animal Collective,
The Monks,
Neu!,
Jawbox,
Technova,
Wire,
Scientists,
The Dirtbombs,
the Bar-Kays,
Traffic Nightmare,
Charles Mingus,
Bizarre Inc.,
the Human League,
Pantaleimon,
the Fania All-Stars,
Black Sheep,
China Crisis,
Skaos,
The Doors,
Bobby Womack,
Lalann,
The Litter,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lou Christie,
Leonard Cohen,
Monks,
Yellowson,
the Swans,
Khruangbin,
Jeff Lynne,
Echospace,
Glenn Branca,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
New York Dolls,
Eddi Front,
Schoolly D,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Model 500,
Shuggie Otis,
JFA,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Joyce Sims,
The Knickerbockers,
The Fuzztones,
U.S. Maple,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Fire Engines,
Nation of Ulysses,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Blackbyrds,
The Sonics,
The Smiths,
These Immortal Souls,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Moss Icon,
Fear,
Crispy Ambulance,
Los Fastidios,
Cymande,
Pet Shop Boys,
Terrestrial Tones,
Oneida, Oneida, Oneida, Oneida.
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.