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 Guatemala and from Spokane.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Silicon Teens to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Derrick Morgan. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Andrew Hill 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Moleskins record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quando Quango,
The Motions,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Arab on Radar,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Names,
Amon Düül,
Camouflage,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Franke,
MC5,
Cameo,
Joensuu 1685,
X-101,
Tears for Fears,
The Beau Brummels,
Isaac Hayes,
Flamin' Groovies,
Rhythm & Sound,
Bootsy Collins,
Wings,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Gun Club,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Matthew Bourne,
Roxette,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Subhumans,
the Bar-Kays,
Avey Tare,
E-Dancer,
Nico,
Minnie Riperton,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Barclay James Harvest,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Fugs,
Skriet,
The Cowsills,
The Durutti Column,
Bizarre Inc.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Boredoms,
Amazonics,
Pantaleimon,
Albert Ayler,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Brass Construction,
Ten City,
Marcia Griffiths,
Interpol,
Hashim,
Sexual Harrassment,
Scrapy,
The Misunderstood,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Visage,
Harpers Bizarre,
Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going, Easy Going.
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.