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 San Marino and from Accra.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Mumbai.
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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the spring reverb 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 KRS-One to the dance kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Sonic Youth. All the underground hits.
All Teenage Jesus and the Jerks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Moon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Isaac Hayes,
Lungfish,
Funkadelic,
Slave,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Joyce Sims,
D'Angelo,
Duran Duran,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Alton Ellis,
Nick Fraelich,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Piero Umiliani,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Gichy Dan,
Basic Channel,
Moss Icon,
The United States of America,
Surgeon,
Kayak,
The Seeds,
Stiv Bators,
Bang On A Can,
Warsaw,
Faraquet,
Rakim,
The Sound,
The Selecter,
Cal Tjader,
Laurel Aitken,
the Bar-Kays,
Byron Stingily,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Black Flag,
Kerri Chandler,
Ituana,
Prince Buster,
Gang Gang Dance,
Flamin' Groovies,
Terry Callier,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Don Cherry,
Sonic Youth,
Skriet,
Ultravox,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bobby Byrd,
Iggy Pop,
Robert Görl,
Fela Kuti,
Goldenarms,
Andrew Hill,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Motions,
Urselle,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Arab on Radar,
The Alarm Clocks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Chrome, Chrome, Chrome, Chrome.
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.