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 Seychelles and from Delhi.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Halifax 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the synthesizer 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 The Busters to the rock 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 Deadbeat. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pulsallama,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Colin Newman,
Underground Resistance,
Lightning Bolt,
K-Klass,
Oblivians,
Shuggie Otis,
Q and Not U,
Cecil Taylor,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Rakim,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Scratch Acid,
Make Up,
Rites of Spring,
Man Eating Sloth,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Khruangbin,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Gories,
Deadbeat,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Spandau Ballet,
Yusef Lateef,
Harry Pussy,
Drexciya,
Marshall Jefferson,
The J.B.'s,
Ice-T,
The Gun Club,
Kas Product,
The New Christs,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Moss Icon,
Joe Smooth,
Accadde A,
Grey Daturas,
Bluetip,
Whodini,
Eurythmics,
Kayak,
Shoche,
Boredoms,
The Birthday Party,
Al Stewart,
The Walker Brothers,
Sugar Minott,
Gil Scott Heron,
FM Einheit,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Cowsills,
Man Parrish,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nirvana,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Jacques Brel,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
John Holt, John Holt, John Holt, John Holt.
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.