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 Uruguay and from Portland.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Intrusion to the techno kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 It's A Beautiful Day. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every B.T. Express record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Stooges,
Pulsallama,
8 Eyed Spy,
Kerri Chandler,
The Five Americans,
Rekid,
Marshall Jefferson,
Groovy Waters,
Section 25,
Roy Ayers,
Kurtis Blow,
Scratch Acid,
Big Daddy Kane,
John Coltrane,
Bauhaus,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Grass Roots,
The Durutti Column,
Girls At Our Best!,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Quando Quango,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Banda Bassotti,
Moebius,
Loose Ends,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Standells,
Faraquet,
The Detroit Cobras,
Wings,
Moby Grape,
Scrapy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Camberwell Now,
Danielle Patucci,
Bootsy Collins,
The Zeros,
UT,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Mojo Men,
Simply Red,
Heaven 17,
the Fania All-Stars,
Index,
The Velvet Underground,
Popol Vuh,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Peter & Gordon,
Stetsasonic,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Spandau Ballet,
The Pretty Things,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Rakim,
X-101,
Kas Product,
Frankie Knuckles,
Wasted Youth,
Brothers Johnson,
Marmalade,
Scan 7,
The Walker Brothers,
Lebanon Hanover,
Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys, Dead Boys.
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.