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 Panama and from Lyon.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Mars to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Moody Blues. All the underground hits.
All Janne Schatter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tom Boy 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
R.M.O.,
Television,
Marc Almond,
The Cramps,
Cal Tjader,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Patti Smith,
Vladislav Delay,
Anakelly,
LL Cool J,
Saccharine Trust,
Schoolly D,
Average White Band,
Scratch Acid,
Davy DMX,
Gang Starr,
Stereo Dub,
The Blues Magoos,
Byron Stingily,
Pussy Galore,
Bill Wells,
Rakim,
Ten City,
Mantronix,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Soft Machine,
Visage,
Tom Boy,
Tears for Fears,
The Gun Club,
Jeff Lynne,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Roxette,
the Sonics,
The Red Krayola,
Pagans,
Robert Hood,
Johnny Clarke,
Aaron Thompson,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Rufus Thomas,
Kerri Chandler,
Rapeman,
Brick,
James White and The Blacks,
Rosa Yemen,
Alison Limerick,
Ronnie Foster,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Radio Birdman,
Swans,
E-Dancer,
Thee Headcoats,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Siglo XX,
Roger Hodgson,
The Black Dice,
Khruangbin,
Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai, Arthur Verocai.
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.