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 Singapore and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the 808 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 Tres Demented 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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Bootsy's Rubber Band tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a New York Dolls 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?
Lungfish,
The Saints,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Frankie Knuckles,
the Human League,
Heaven 17,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Y Pants,
Harry Pussy,
Siglo XX,
Al Stewart,
Glenn Branca,
Bang On A Can,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Bill Wells,
Mandrill,
Max Romeo,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
LL Cool J,
Matthew Halsall,
Moss Icon,
Mad Mike,
Boz Scaggs,
Piero Umiliani,
Dual Sessions,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ronnie Foster,
Black Bananas,
Sister Nancy,
Gil Scott Heron,
Sparks,
kango's stein massive,
The J.B.'s,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sound,
David Axelrod,
Excepter,
June of 44,
The Techniques,
Jandek,
Skaos,
Aural Exciters,
the Soft Cell,
Ludus,
Amon Düül II,
Danielle Patucci,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Yellowson,
The Zeros,
Charles Mingus,
The Martian,
World's Most,
James White and The Blacks,
Crash Course in Science,
Hasil Adkins,
PIL,
Roger Hodgson,
Barry Ungar,
Pole,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Ituana,
Ossler,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.