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 Monaco and from Winnipeg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba 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 Swell Maps to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All Kerri Chandler tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Royal Trux,
Fugazi,
T.S.O.L.,
Arcadia,
Anthony Braxton,
Gang of Four,
Slick Rick,
Ultra Naté,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Harmonia,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Fortunes,
The Vogues,
Rapeman,
Arab on Radar,
The Angels of Light,
Liliput,
Matthew Halsall,
Youth Brigade,
Duran Duran,
Lightning Bolt,
Main Source,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Au Pairs,
Donny Hathaway,
The Moody Blues,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Ice-T,
Iggy Pop,
X-102,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Outsiders,
Lou Christie,
Zapp,
Niagra,
Magazine,
Skarface,
U.S. Maple,
Darondo,
EPMD,
Chrome,
Aaron Thompson,
The Kinks,
K-Klass,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Golliwogs,
Los Fastidios,
Lebanon Hanover,
Barbara Tucker,
The Index,
Camberwell Now,
Oblivians,
Kool Moe Dee,
Swans,
Brand Nubian,
Nick Fraelich,
Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments, Unrelated Segments.
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.