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 Australia and from New York.
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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Eddi Front to the punk 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 Circle Jerks. All the underground hits.
All the Slits tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gil Scott Heron 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 a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cecil Taylor record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soulsonic Force,
Rakim,
Dark Day,
Pharoah Sanders,
Godley & Creme,
Masters at Work,
Niagra,
Al Stewart,
The Walker Brothers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Zero Boys,
Oneida,
Derrick May,
Quadrant,
Pagans,
The Remains,
The Blackbyrds,
Pole,
The Modern Lovers,
Sonic Youth,
Darondo,
Brothers Johnson,
Gichy Dan,
The Kinks,
Dawn Penn,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Star Department,
Anakelly,
Girls At Our Best!,
Camouflage,
The Knickerbockers,
New Order,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Sister Nancy,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Duran Duran,
The Fugs,
Minutemen,
Nas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Talk Talk,
Jeff Mills,
Don Cherry,
the Fania All-Stars,
Eurythmics,
Ultra Naté,
Iggy Pop,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Audionom,
Main Source,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Velvet Underground,
Rapeman,
Wasted Youth,
Sexual Harrassment,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Alarm Clocks,
Danielle Patucci,
Zapp, Zapp, Zapp, Zapp.
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.