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 Maldives and from London.
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 1962 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Roxette to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Terry Callier. All the underground hits.
All Guru Guru tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Finger record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Deakin record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sällskapet,
Scratch Acid,
The Litter,
Flipper,
The Last Poets,
Boz Scaggs,
Mantronix,
Hasil Adkins,
Unwound,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Durutti Column,
Eurythmics,
Cecil Taylor,
Goldenarms,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Todd Rundgren,
Con Funk Shun,
Average White Band,
Zapp,
Ronan,
Main Source,
Susan Cadogan,
Tres Demented,
Joe Smooth,
Gichy Dan,
The Misunderstood,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jandek,
Q65,
Zero Boys,
La Düsseldorf,
Au Pairs,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Gang of Four,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Rod Modell,
Mars,
Camberwell Now,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fuzztones,
Spandau Ballet,
The Mummies,
the Soft Cell,
Todd Terry,
Idris Muhammad,
Talk Talk,
Tommy Roe,
The Residents,
Bill Near,
Chris & Cosey,
One Last Wish,
Animal Collective,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Barrington Levy,
In Retrospect,
Iggy Pop,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Motions,
The Smiths,
Howard Jones,
The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids, The Real Kids.
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.