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 Korea North and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Rakim to the disco 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 James White and The Blacks. All the underground hits.
All Roger Hodgson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Loose Ends record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
K-Klass,
Scratch Acid,
John Holt,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Grass Roots,
Vladislav Delay,
T. Rex,
Suicide,
Aswad,
New Order,
Kayak,
Kurtis Blow,
Mr. Review,
Faraquet,
Newcleus,
Joy Division,
Mantronix,
Quadrant,
The Litter,
Skaos,
The Motions,
Cheater Slicks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Von Mondo,
Todd Rundgren,
Spoonie Gee,
James Chance & The Contortions,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
EPMD,
Rekid,
Joe Smooth,
Henry Cow,
X-101,
The Cowsills,
Nik Kershaw,
June Days,
Gong,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Invisible,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ronan,
Whodini,
Nick Fraelich,
Public Enemy,
Popol Vuh,
Arcadia,
The Gories,
Marvin Gaye,
Glenn Branca,
Funky Four + One,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Bizarre Inc.,
The Move,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Half Japanese,
The Detroit Cobras,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
DJ Sneak,
Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson, Brothers Johnson.
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.