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 Rwanda and from Lagos.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the marimba 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 Television Personalities to the crunk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Sonics. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Hood record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 an arpeggiator and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Michelle Simonal record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Los Fastidios,
The Standells,
The Tremeloes,
KRS-One,
Minutemen,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Magma,
The Red Krayola,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Eric Copeland,
Sixth Finger,
Traffic Nightmare,
Popol Vuh,
Excepter,
The Invisible,
DJ Sneak,
The American Breed,
Soft Machine,
Guru Guru,
Main Source,
ABC,
UT,
The Busters,
Absolute Body Control,
Fatback Band,
Morten Harket,
Brothers Johnson,
Harpers Bizarre,
Negative Approach,
E-Dancer,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
X-102,
Scion,
Desert Stars,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Monolake,
The Kinks,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Jeff Mills,
Robert Wyatt,
Ludus,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Steve Hackett,
Organ,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
The Barracudas,
This Heat,
Delta 5,
Derrick Morgan,
The Leaves,
Mark Hollis,
Lakeside,
Von Mondo,
Roxette,
Lou Christie,
Kerri Chandler,
Boogie Down Productions,
Rites of Spring,
Brick,
Oblivians,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart, Al Stewart.
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.