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 Mali and from Edmonton.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Accra.
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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew to the techno 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 E-Dancer. All the underground hits.
All Marc Almond tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Suicide record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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?
Nirvana,
Gabor Szabo,
Funky Four + One,
Arcadia,
Angry Samoans,
Scratch Acid,
Wasted Youth,
Joy Division,
Bizarre Inc.,
Mark Hollis,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Drexciya,
a-ha,
Shuggie Otis,
Silicon Teens,
Sparks,
The Barracudas,
Fluxion,
The Dead C,
Crispy Ambulance,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Slave,
Kerri Chandler,
Brand Nubian,
David Bowie,
Sister Nancy,
Tubeway Army,
Slick Rick,
F. McDonald,
The Flesh Eaters,
FM Einheit,
Gong,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Parry Music,
The Detroit Cobras,
Urselle,
Glenn Branca,
X-Ray Spex,
Simply Red,
D'Angelo,
Ronnie Foster,
The Residents,
Malaria!,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
New York Dolls,
DJ Style,
Desert Stars,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
PIL,
Mr. Review,
R.M.O.,
Rites of Spring,
These Immortal Souls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Trojans,
Infiniti,
Hardrive,
Al Stewart,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
DJ Sneak,
Roy Ayers,
Nils Olav,
Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science, Crash Course in Science.
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.