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 Dominican Republic and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Madrid 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 K-Klass to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Dave Clark Five. All the underground hits.
All Nation of Ulysses tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Amazonics record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang Gang Dance record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Amon Düül II,
Lou Christie,
Gil Scott Heron,
Boogie Down Productions,
DJ Sneak,
Slick Rick,
The Shadows of Knight,
Camouflage,
Das Ding,
Ultimate Spinach,
K-Klass,
Technova,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Move,
The Sonics,
June of 44,
Lou Reed,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
The Music Machine,
Lyres,
Joe Smooth,
The Techniques,
Electric Prunes,
R.M.O.,
Peter and Kerry,
Rosa Yemen,
Warsaw,
Motorama,
Sarah Menescal,
Johnny Osbourne,
Clear Light,
Young Marble Giants,
kango's stein massive,
Brass Construction,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Happenings,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Japan,
Cecil Taylor,
Angry Samoans,
The Busters,
Bad Manners,
Graham Central Station,
Bobby Sherman,
The Cowsills,
New Order,
Dave Gahan,
Anthony Braxton,
Josef K,
Boredoms,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
FM Einheit,
Moebius,
Eric Copeland,
Harmonia,
Mr. Review,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bronski Beat,
Derrick Morgan,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Desert Stars,
Sun Ra,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.