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 Uzbekistan and from Johannesburg.
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 1965 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Los Fastidios to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 New Age Steppers. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The American Breed 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
Sexual Harrassment,
Derrick Morgan,
Harry Pussy,
Chris Corsano,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Zapp,
The Mummies,
Scientists,
Goldenarms,
The Names,
Kerri Chandler,
Rosa Yemen,
Infiniti,
Gang of Four,
ABC,
Soul Sonic Force,
David Axelrod,
Chrome,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Carl Craig,
Mission of Burma,
Nick Fraelich,
China Crisis,
Visage,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
The Raincoats,
The Techniques,
Black Sheep,
Shuggie Otis,
Curtis Mayfield,
Porter Ricks,
Albert Ayler,
Minny Pops,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rufus Thomas,
Anthony Braxton,
Drexciya,
Peter and Kerry,
Index,
Nirvana,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Danielle Patucci,
Yusef Lateef,
Radiohead,
One Last Wish,
Radiopuhelimet,
Deakin,
Flash Fearless,
The Dead C,
Laurel Aitken,
Fear,
the Germs,
Quando Quango,
Neu!,
Blancmange,
Hot Snakes,
Sun Ra,
Glambeats Corp.,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Groovy Waters,
Ronnie Foster,
Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo, Yazoo.
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.