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 Norway and from Copenhagen.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Fuzztones to the crunk 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Gerry Rafferty tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bronski Beat record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marvin Gaye,
Grey Daturas,
Black Moon,
Eric Copeland,
Desert Stars,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Searchers,
Soul II Soul,
John Cale,
Alison Limerick,
Masters at Work,
EPMD,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Sonics,
Bush Tetras,
Stockholm Monsters,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Joyce Sims,
Fugazi,
Lalann,
Marshall Jefferson,
Sun City Girls,
UT,
Severed Heads,
Tres Demented,
The Cowsills,
Warren Ellis,
Suburban Knight,
Lou Christie,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
DJ Style,
the Human League,
Stereo Dub,
Fela Kuti,
Scan 7,
Ten City,
June of 44,
the Swans,
Brothers Johnson,
Echospace,
Erasure,
The Smoke,
The Remains,
London Community Gospel Choir,
U.S. Maple,
Pulsallama,
The Walker Brothers,
Tomorrow,
Das Ding,
Oblivians,
Khruangbin,
Tom Boy,
Bobby Womack,
Arthur Verocai,
The Flesh Eaters,
Bobby Sherman,
Janne Schatter,
the Germs,
The Count Five,
Metal Thangz,
The Neon Judgement,
Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment, Sexual Harrassment.
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.