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 Iceland and from Lagos.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Gap Band 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 Human League. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Agent Orange 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an arpeggiator 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 chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sonic Youth,
Kurtis Blow,
The Black Dice,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bizarre Inc.,
JFA,
Mandrill,
The Cure,
Kool Moe Dee,
Skarface,
Ludus,
Sister Nancy,
Tubeway Army,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Toasters,
The Golliwogs,
D'Angelo,
Letta Mbulu,
Black Sheep,
Prince Buster,
John Coltrane,
the Soft Cell,
The Slits,
Sound Behaviour,
the Fania All-Stars,
Half Japanese,
Lou Christie,
The Index,
Harry Pussy,
ABC,
The Shadows of Knight,
Sarah Menescal,
Funkadelic,
Isaac Hayes,
Lalo Schifrin,
Gang Gang Dance,
Black Bananas,
Dark Day,
Marvin Gaye,
Jerry's Kids,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Barrington Levy,
the Germs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Reuben Wilson,
Q and Not U,
Absolute Body Control,
Patti Smith,
La Düsseldorf,
Althea and Donna,
Ponytail,
Index,
Albert Ayler,
Wire,
Cecil Taylor,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Aswad,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Connie Case,
Duran Duran,
Bootsy Collins,
Vainqueur,
Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun, Con Funk Shun.
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.