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 Ghana and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Index to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All The Saints tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every H. Thieme record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Almond record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer 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?
Freddie Wadling,
Black Bananas,
Harmonia,
Anthony Braxton,
Don Cherry,
Todd Terry,
Crime,
One Last Wish,
The Remains,
Bobby Byrd,
Deakin,
The Music Machine,
Faust,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ultra Naté,
Malaria!,
Sonic Youth,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Velvet Underground,
48th St. Collective,
Tim Buckley,
U.S. Maple,
The Tremeloes,
The Grass Roots,
Anakelly,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Davy DMX,
Aural Exciters,
Josef K,
Junior Murvin,
Gang Green,
Nik Kershaw,
Schoolly D,
Howard Jones,
Circle Jerks,
Ralphi Rosario,
Ten City,
Connie Case,
Ituana,
Lower 48,
Cybotron,
Alison Limerick,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Gregory Isaacs,
The J.B.'s,
Loose Ends,
Ornette Coleman,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Mummies,
Sam Rivers,
Funky Four + One,
X-Ray Spex,
The Index,
Sällskapet,
Rufus Thomas,
Bluetip,
Tears for Fears,
Groovy Waters,
Eli Mardock,
Deadbeat,
Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül, Amon Düül.
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.