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 Saudi Arabia and from Cairo.
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 Sao Paulo and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Rakim to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Nico. All the underground hits.
All June Days tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Derrick Morgan record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
Sun City Girls,
Iggy Pop,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Index,
Chris & Cosey,
Drive Like Jehu,
Negative Approach,
X-Ray Spex,
Radiopuhelimet,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Angels of Light,
Eli Mardock,
Erasure,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Moody Blues,
Glenn Branca,
Brothers Johnson,
Alton Ellis,
Dawn Penn,
Bobby Sherman,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Sound,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Gabor Szabo,
Sällskapet,
Black Sheep,
Lightning Bolt,
DNA,
Mantronix,
Roy Ayers,
Sandy B,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Kerri Chandler,
David Bowie,
U.S. Maple,
The Move,
Skaos,
Slick Rick,
Matthew Halsall,
The Five Americans,
Joensuu 1685,
Arab on Radar,
Porter Ricks,
Howard Jones,
Althea and Donna,
Magma,
Crispian St. Peters,
Procol Harum,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ituana,
Grandmaster Flash,
Terry Callier,
F. McDonald,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Goldenarms,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Eric Dolphy,
Jimmy McGriff,
Spoonie Gee,
Kevin Saunderson,
Smog,
Judy Mowatt,
Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra, Sun Ra Arkestra.
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.