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 Dominican Republic and from Stockholm.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the punk 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 Susan Cadogan. All the underground hits.
All Slick Rick tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Görl 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Neil Young record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Real Kids,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Lou Christie,
Freddie Wadling,
Sound Behaviour,
Blake Baxter,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Jeff Mills,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Nation of Ulysses,
Alton Ellis,
Bobby Womack,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Big Daddy Kane,
Sandy B,
Half Japanese,
Cheater Slicks,
Pere Ubu,
Motorama,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Robert Hood,
DJ Sneak,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Grass Roots,
Kerri Chandler,
Juan Atkins,
B.T. Express,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Deadbeat,
Reagan Youth,
The Litter,
Yaz,
Rosa Yemen,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Qualms,
Excepter,
The Zeros,
Dark Day,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Radio Birdman,
One Last Wish,
The Smiths,
Symarip,
Make Up,
Radiohead,
The Selecter,
Mantronix,
Connie Case,
Pantaleimon,
Scientists,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Crime,
The Dead C,
Simply Red,
Toni Rubio,
Byron Stingily,
Agitation Free,
Whodini,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Sparks,
Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson, Wally Richardson.
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.