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 Bangladesh and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 marimba 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 Cybotron to the jazz 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 Larry & the Blue Notes. All the underground hits.
All Motorama tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fugazi 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Man Eating Sloth,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Radiopuhelimet,
UT,
Visage,
Faust,
Jimmy McGriff,
Swans,
X-Ray Spex,
Derrick May,
Steve Hackett,
the Normal,
The Fortunes,
Reuben Wilson,
Hashim,
The Fuzztones,
Lee Hazlewood,
Liliput,
Graham Central Station,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sex Pistols,
Stockholm Monsters,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Fall,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sixth Finger,
Angry Samoans,
Trumans Water,
David Bowie,
B.T. Express,
Moss Icon,
Duran Duran,
Gastr Del Sol,
Supertramp,
Howard Jones,
Pylon,
Brand Nubian,
Fad Gadget,
Infiniti,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Dead C,
Andrew Hill,
Chrome,
Nation of Ulysses,
Thee Headcoats,
Warren Ellis,
Zero Boys,
Popol Vuh,
KRS-One,
Silicon Teens,
Laurel Aitken,
The Busters,
Piero Umiliani,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Surgeon,
Rekid,
Thompson Twins,
The Slits,
Talk Talk,
The Angels of Light,
Black Pus,
Funkadelic,
The Doors, The Doors, The Doors, The Doors.
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.