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 Papua New Guinea and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 synthesizer 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 Brand Nubian to the grunge kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Blossom Toes. All the underground hits.
All Pantaleimon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Max Romeo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Steve Hackett record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flash Fearless,
Lou Christie,
Nils Olav,
The Real Kids,
The Leaves,
The Victims,
Icehouse,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Johnny Clarke,
Grey Daturas,
Ultimate Spinach,
Pole,
The Selecter,
Erasure,
Rapeman,
The Offenders,
Soulsonic Force,
The Fuzztones,
Stiv Bators,
AZ,
Robert Wyatt,
Pussy Galore,
The Grass Roots,
Sixth Finger,
The Smiths,
Cecil Taylor,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mars,
Liliput,
Kas Product,
Y Pants,
Bauhaus,
Fort Wilson Riot,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Joey Negro,
Spandau Ballet,
Spoonie Gee,
Radio Birdman,
Ten City,
The Neon Judgement,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
John Coltrane,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Brick,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Reagan Youth,
T. Rex,
The Count Five,
The Wake,
LL Cool J,
Theoretical Girls,
Country Teasers,
Cymande,
Archie Shepp,
Lee Hazlewood,
David Axelrod,
Bill Wells,
Dorothy Ashby,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
DJ Style,
Little Man,
Andrew Hill,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.