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 Belgium and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Sun City Girls to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band. All the underground hits.
All Suburban Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Main Source record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harpers Bizarre record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tom Boy,
Roxette,
T.S.O.L.,
ABC,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Black Moon,
Jacob Miller,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sun Ra,
Pierre Henry,
Adolescents,
Neil Young,
Monks,
Nick Fraelich,
Peter and Kerry,
Carl Craig,
Black Pus,
Mantronix,
Vainqueur,
Panda Bear,
Robert Görl,
Porter Ricks,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Electric Prunes,
Fear,
Tubeway Army,
The Smiths,
The Martian,
Royal Trux,
Lightning Bolt,
The Seeds,
B.T. Express,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Jacques Brel,
Grey Daturas,
Scott Walker,
Duran Duran,
Chris Corsano,
Scientists,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Eurythmics,
Animal Collective,
The Smoke,
Boz Scaggs,
Ponytail,
Spoonie Gee,
a-ha,
Blake Baxter,
Mars,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Warsaw,
The Electric Prunes,
The Black Dice,
Cheater Slicks,
Steve Hackett,
Spandau Ballet,
Television Personalities,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood, Robert Hood.
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.