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 Kenya and from Madrid.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba 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 Danielle Patucci to the crunk 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 The Martian. All the underground hits.
All Radiopuhelimet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New Order record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Dead Boys,
The Five Americans,
Accadde A,
the Fania All-Stars,
Derrick May,
Bobby Sherman,
Cybotron,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pagans,
Faust,
D'Angelo,
the Association,
Rapeman,
Barclay James Harvest,
Skarface,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Martian,
The Neon Judgement,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Deakin,
Circle Jerks,
Niagra,
Pere Ubu,
Grey Daturas,
Mars,
Michelle Simonal,
Magma,
Boz Scaggs,
Loose Ends,
One Last Wish,
Supertramp,
Buzzcocks,
Talk Talk,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
John Holt,
The Tremeloes,
Harpers Bizarre,
Carl Craig,
AZ,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Alison Limerick,
Cameo,
Robert Wyatt,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Quantec,
Laurel Aitken,
Flamin' Groovies,
Barbara Tucker,
Hashim,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
R.M.O.,
Whodini,
The Pop Group,
Lower 48,
Can,
New Order,
The Real Kids,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
DJ Sneak,
Scion,
Junior Murvin,
Grandmaster Flash,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.