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 Somalia 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 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 Joey Negro to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Martian. All the underground hits.
All Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The United States of America 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a David Axelrod record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fear,
The Move,
Nils Olav,
Eve St. Jones,
Ohio Players,
the Germs,
Trumans Water,
Brothers Johnson,
Avey Tare,
Sällskapet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Model 500,
ABBA,
Scan 7,
Alton Ellis,
The Velvet Underground,
John Holt,
The Martian,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Visage,
Lyres,
kango's stein massive,
Godley & Creme,
The Sound,
The Buckinghams,
Oblivians,
T. Rex,
Saccharine Trust,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Kool Moe Dee,
Blake Baxter,
Drexciya,
Kas Product,
Jeru the Damaja,
Moss Icon,
Inner City,
FM Einheit,
DJ Sneak,
Zapp,
Reuben Wilson,
Traffic Nightmare,
Iggy Pop,
Scientists,
Country Joe & The Fish,
China Crisis,
The Standells,
The Star Department,
Monolake,
Circle Jerks,
Faust,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Joe Finger,
Graham Central Station,
Duran Duran,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Kinks,
John Cale,
Pulsallama,
Joyce Sims,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan, Bob Dylan.
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.