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 Qatar and from Edmonton.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Feelies show in Haledon.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 oboe 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 Masters at Work to the electroclash 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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Fluxion tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soul Sonic Force record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
L. Decosne,
John Coltrane,
Connie Case,
Surgeon,
Zapp,
Outsiders,
Funky Four + One,
Jerry's Kids,
Cymande,
Ornette Coleman,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Misunderstood,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Names,
Minutemen,
Jacob Miller,
Donny Hathaway,
Nico,
Sällskapet,
Tears for Fears,
The Flesh Eaters,
Mo-Dettes,
Todd Terry,
Bobby Womack,
Index,
The Smiths,
Marvin Gaye,
Scratch Acid,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Neon Judgement,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Maleditus Sound,
Slick Rick,
Gregory Isaacs,
Big Daddy Kane,
Howard Jones,
Sun City Girls,
Neil Young,
Buzzcocks,
Tomorrow,
Monolake,
Inner City,
Dark Day,
Trumans Water,
Section 25,
Aaron Thompson,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Gladiators,
Fela Kuti,
Jawbox,
Hoover,
Bobby Sherman,
Eric Dolphy,
the Human League,
Fad Gadget,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Half Japanese,
Fluxion,
These Immortal Souls,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Urselle,
Television,
Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48, Lower 48.
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.