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 Libya and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Juan Atkins 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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Association record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 rhodes and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Knickerbockers,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Cowsills,
Tomorrow,
Theoretical Girls,
Joensuu 1685,
Glambeats Corp.,
Gang Starr,
The Fuzztones,
E-Dancer,
Loose Ends,
Quando Quango,
Pulsallama,
Blossom Toes,
Rapeman,
The Detroit Cobras,
Roxy Music,
Curtis Mayfield,
Radio Birdman,
Surgeon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Blancmange,
Avey Tare,
Ash Ra Tempel,
James White and The Blacks,
The Golliwogs,
Subhumans,
Sex Pistols,
Mars,
Minny Pops,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quantec,
Fear,
Moebius,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Absolute Body Control,
La Düsseldorf,
Lalann,
The Invisible,
Charles Mingus,
Soft Cell,
Alton Ellis,
Peter and Kerry,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Human League,
Wire,
Animal Collective,
The Standells,
The Gladiators,
Sound Behaviour,
Girls At Our Best!,
Khruangbin,
Jawbox,
Parry Music,
Sun City Girls,
LL Cool J,
Maleditus Sound,
Maurizio,
Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can, Bang On A Can.
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.