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 Rwanda and from Johannesburg.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Names to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Peter & Gordon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Men They Couldn't Hang 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Minutemen record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Panda Bear,
Pet Shop Boys,
Scientists,
Byron Stingily,
Motorama,
Neu!,
Al Stewart,
June of 44,
The Divine Comedy,
Wally Richardson,
Steve Hackett,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Section 25,
Public Image Ltd.,
Siglo XX,
The Birthday Party,
Althea and Donna,
Blancmange,
Ultra Naté,
Godley & Creme,
Sällskapet,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Neil Young,
Blossom Toes,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ten City,
Audionom,
Khruangbin,
Japan,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Alarm Clocks,
Urselle,
Bill Wells,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Gang Starr,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Carl Craig,
Masters at Work,
Joy Division,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Nas,
Fela Kuti,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grauzone,
Gang Green,
Rites of Spring,
Rekid,
Davy DMX,
Roy Ayers,
Harry Pussy,
John Coltrane,
Mo-Dettes,
Outsiders,
Lakeside,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Delta 5,
Nirvana,
Animal Collective,
Juan Atkins,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.