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 Kazakhstan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 X-Ray Spex to the funk 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 Hashim. All the underground hits.
All Anthony Braxton tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Q and Not U 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marmalade,
The Sound,
Gregory Isaacs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Star Department,
Vladislav Delay,
Scrapy,
Drive Like Jehu,
Yellowson,
Vainqueur,
Kevin Saunderson,
Faraquet,
Sex Pistols,
The Selecter,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Bobby Sherman,
Dark Day,
The Gun Club,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bill Near,
Byron Stingily,
Sarah Menescal,
The Dave Clark Five,
Intrusion,
Idris Muhammad,
JFA,
Absolute Body Control,
Unwound,
Mars,
The Pop Group,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Dead Boys,
Althea and Donna,
The Five Americans,
Spoonie Gee,
Brand Nubian,
Icehouse,
Donald Byrd,
The Smiths,
Liliput,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Michelle Simonal,
Marcia Griffiths,
Mr. Review,
The Dead C,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Cecil Taylor,
Robert Görl,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gang Green,
Mary Jane Girls,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
OOIOO,
Letta Mbulu,
Moebius,
The Victims,
Simply Red,
Das Ding,
Livin' Joy,
D'Angelo,
Don Cherry,
Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops, Minny Pops.
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.