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 Swaziland and from Woodstock.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 John Coltrane to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All 48th St. Collective tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deadbeat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Detroit Cobras record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Agitation Free,
The American Breed,
The Black Dice,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Harmonia,
Oneida,
Ultravox,
Radio Birdman,
Beasts of Bourbon,
A Certain Ratio,
Arcadia,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Reagan Youth,
Roger Hodgson,
Icehouse,
K-Klass,
Negative Approach,
Grey Daturas,
Bad Manners,
Ultra Naté,
Sam Rivers,
Rapeman,
Soft Cell,
X-101,
Graham Central Station,
Newcleus,
The Doors,
The Slackers,
Crime,
Henry Cow,
Ponytail,
The Selecter,
Robert Görl,
Letta Mbulu,
Lucky Dragons,
Derrick Morgan,
Jeff Mills,
Eddi Front,
Wire,
Wolf Eyes,
Crispy Ambulance,
Scrapy,
Agent Orange,
D'Angelo,
a-ha,
The Cramps,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Five Americans,
The Trojans,
Depeche Mode,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Black Sheep,
Tom Boy,
Cybotron,
Mo-Dettes,
Sex Pistols,
The Invisible,
Stiv Bators,
Mandrill,
June Days,
Bang On A Can,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.