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 Palau 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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Junior Murvin to the disco 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 Gary Puckett & The Union Gap. All the underground hits.
All Prince Buster tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Icehouse record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yazoo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blues Magoos,
Fluxion,
David Bowie,
The Martian,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Johnny Clarke,
Gong,
Negative Approach,
B.T. Express,
The Durutti Column,
The Happenings,
Grey Daturas,
The Doobie Brothers,
Patti Smith,
Ultravox,
The Standells,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
New Age Steppers,
Sonic Youth,
Lungfish,
Brass Construction,
Kaleidoscope,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pagans,
The American Breed,
Surgeon,
Piero Umiliani,
Sun Ra,
Newcleus,
Glenn Branca,
The Walker Brothers,
The Dirtbombs,
Crispian St. Peters,
Young Marble Giants,
Agitation Free,
The Remains,
Max Romeo,
CMW,
Trumans Water,
Pere Ubu,
Jeff Lynne,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Mojo Men,
Smog,
Cheater Slicks,
Barbara Tucker,
The Evens,
The Stooges,
F. McDonald,
DNA,
Kas Product,
Tim Buckley,
Lee Hazlewood,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sex Pistols,
Harry Pussy,
Severed Heads,
Sandy B,
Section 25,
the Normal,
a-ha,
The Leaves,
Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare, Traffic Nightmare.
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.