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 Argentina and from Woodstock.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 Bronski Beat to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Rekid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Visage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Sheep,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Stiv Bators,
The Durutti Column,
The Music Machine,
kango's stein massive,
Brothers Johnson,
One Last Wish,
Liliput,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Eve St. Jones,
Lightning Bolt,
Wally Richardson,
Bill Wells,
Jerry's Kids,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Happenings,
Marc Almond,
Oblivians,
Ultra Naté,
Joyce Sims,
Pole,
Niagra,
The J.B.'s,
Amon Düül II,
Janne Schatter,
Smog,
a-ha,
Erykah Badu,
Grauzone,
Swell Maps,
JFA,
Alice Coltrane,
Freddie Wadling,
Moby Grape,
10cc,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Danielle Patucci,
Faust,
Glenn Branca,
Lindisfarne,
Bronski Beat,
Public Image Ltd.,
Magazine,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Fania All-Stars,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lucky Dragons,
Television,
The Grass Roots,
The Invisible,
The Star Department,
T.S.O.L.,
Marvin Gaye,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Soft Cell,
Flash Fearless,
Fat Boys,
Simply Red,
The Buckinghams,
The Count Five,
U.S. Maple,
Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor, Cecil Taylor.
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.