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 Namibia and from Milan.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 güiro 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 Vladislav Delay to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bob Dylan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Make Up,
Mark Hollis,
Max Romeo,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Oneida,
Hot Snakes,
Ultimate Spinach,
Bad Manners,
Bobby Sherman,
Lower 48,
Sam Rivers,
Con Funk Shun,
Siglo XX,
Minny Pops,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Colin Newman,
Curtis Mayfield,
Urselle,
Eric Copeland,
Bill Near,
Infiniti,
Cameo,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bob Dylan,
Mission of Burma,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Model 500,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Roger Hodgson,
H. Thieme,
Fela Kuti,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Gang Gang Dance,
Grauzone,
David Axelrod,
Ossler,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pierre Henry,
Oblivians,
Silicon Teens,
Sun City Girls,
Buzzcocks,
Thee Headcoats,
Scientists,
The Divine Comedy,
Malaria!,
Eric Dolphy,
Y Pants,
Vainqueur,
The Vogues,
Ludus,
Wings,
Kevin Saunderson,
Radio Birdman,
Soft Cell,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Morten Harket,
Boredoms,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.