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 Tuvalu and from Sao Paulo.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the organ 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 Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft to the techno 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 Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All David Bowie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scientists,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Warren Ellis,
Neil Young,
Gang Green,
Susan Cadogan,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Severed Heads,
Pet Shop Boys,
Aaron Thompson,
Marvin Gaye,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Clear Light,
The Red Krayola,
Masters at Work,
Adolescents,
Cybotron,
The Tremeloes,
Ossler,
Deakin,
Tim Buckley,
Rotary Connection,
Loose Ends,
Mars,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Moss Icon,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Wings,
Freddie Wadling,
Duran Duran,
Malaria!,
Camberwell Now,
Lindisfarne,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Avey Tare,
the Sonics,
Johnny Clarke,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Sixth Finger,
Boredoms,
The Slits,
Letta Mbulu,
World's Most,
UT,
Slick Rick,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Invisible,
The New Christs,
Fluxion,
Gabor Szabo,
Mary Jane Girls,
Stereo Dub,
June Days,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
F. McDonald,
Mo-Dettes,
The Seeds,
Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco, Tropical Tobacco.
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.