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 Cuba and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Angels of Light to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Sparks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Aloha Tigers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slits,
Cecil Taylor,
The Birthday Party,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Pop Group,
Joy Division,
Parry Music,
Lower 48,
Anthony Braxton,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Ronnie Foster,
The Names,
Reuben Wilson,
The Golliwogs,
Das Ding,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Andrew Hill,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Peter and Kerry,
The Count Five,
Minor Threat,
Donald Byrd,
Susan Cadogan,
Negative Approach,
Soul II Soul,
Youth Brigade,
Aswad,
Man Eating Sloth,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Moby Grape,
Rotary Connection,
Country Teasers,
Q and Not U,
Mark Hollis,
Bizarre Inc.,
Janne Schatter,
Radiohead,
Rites of Spring,
Aural Exciters,
Unwound,
Vainqueur,
Porter Ricks,
K-Klass,
Derrick May,
Con Funk Shun,
Easy Going,
Monks,
Harry Pussy,
Hot Snakes,
The Tremeloes,
The Mummies,
10cc,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Bush Tetras,
A Certain Ratio,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
DNA,
Kerrie Biddell,
Massinfluence,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.