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 Cyprus and from Spokane.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 808 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 Trumans Water to the funk 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 The Count Five. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Althea and Donna record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Shoche,
Pole,
The Associates,
Trumans Water,
Blossom Toes,
Interpol,
Ohio Players,
Eli Mardock,
The Slackers,
Gang of Four,
Sexual Harrassment,
Roxy Music,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Scott Walker,
Depeche Mode,
Fear,
The Birthday Party,
Swans,
Porter Ricks,
Yellowson,
Oblivians,
Pagans,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Al Stewart,
The Gladiators,
X-Ray Spex,
The Gories,
Marcia Griffiths,
Todd Rundgren,
The Neon Judgement,
Stiv Bators,
Lyres,
Neil Young,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Selecter,
Ronan,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Eve St. Jones,
Harry Pussy,
David Axelrod,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Buckinghams,
Aloha Tigers,
Procol Harum,
Brothers Johnson,
Scrapy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Hardrive,
Whodini,
Man Parrish,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Unwound,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Joe Smooth,
Arab on Radar,
Banda Bassotti,
Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill, Mandrill.
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.