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 East Timor and from Accra.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 harpsichord 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 Wally Richardson to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Royal Trux. All the underground hits.
All Marcia Griffiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Residents 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Star Department record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Public Image Ltd.,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Mantronix,
Kerri Chandler,
Duran Duran,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Basic Channel,
Graham Central Station,
Peter & Gordon,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sarah Menescal,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Residents,
FM Einheit,
Harmonia,
Brass Construction,
Cecil Taylor,
Easy Going,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Robert Wyatt,
Warsaw,
The Mojo Men,
Second Layer,
Tubeway Army,
Charles Mingus,
Urselle,
Terry Callier,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
K-Klass,
Wasted Youth,
Magma,
Archie Shepp,
Amazonics,
The Gap Band,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Barry Ungar,
Monolake,
Hashim,
Barclay James Harvest,
Massinfluence,
Banda Bassotti,
Danielle Patucci,
DJ Style,
Tom Boy,
10cc,
Masters at Work,
The Alarm Clocks,
Babytalk,
Marmalade,
New Age Steppers,
Andrew Hill,
Adolescents,
Althea and Donna,
La Düsseldorf,
Eddi Front,
F. McDonald,
Kevin Saunderson,
The Detroit Cobras,
cv313,
The American Breed,
Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage, Camouflage.
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.