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 Angola and from New York.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Halifax.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rod Modell to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Zeros. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mary Jane Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 synthesizer and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sexual Harrassment record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Selecter,
10cc,
Henry Cow,
Todd Terry,
Blancmange,
The Slackers,
Harry Pussy,
Monks,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Neil Young,
Make Up,
Boredoms,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bauhaus,
Drive Like Jehu,
Sugar Minott,
Sam Rivers,
Yazoo,
Groovy Waters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Don Cherry,
Deepchord,
Derrick Morgan,
Duran Duran,
Minor Threat,
Sun Ra,
The Angels of Light,
Susan Cadogan,
Ice-T,
T. Rex,
Moss Icon,
Yellowson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
L. Decosne,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Jawbox,
John Cale,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
New Order,
The Music Machine,
the Swans,
Scan 7,
Vladislav Delay,
Guru Guru,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Alison Limerick,
Scientists,
Radio Birdman,
Spoonie Gee,
John Holt,
The Motions,
Amon Düül II,
Warsaw,
X-102,
R.M.O.,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Dave Gahan,
Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls, Sun City Girls.
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.