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 Egypt and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Angels of Light to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All Make Up tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pet Shop Boys record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Terry Callier record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gerry Rafferty,
KRS-One,
One Last Wish,
H. Thieme,
Radio Birdman,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yellowson,
Symarip,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Aloha Tigers,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Misunderstood,
New York Dolls,
Pussy Galore,
DJ Style,
Cecil Taylor,
Matthew Bourne,
PIL,
Slave,
Blossom Toes,
The Kinks,
Robert Hood,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Erasure,
The Black Dice,
The Cowsills,
The Star Department,
Lower 48,
The Gap Band,
The Moody Blues,
Pylon,
T. Rex,
Ralphi Rosario,
Marshall Jefferson,
Simply Red,
Toni Rubio,
Alton Ellis,
The Real Kids,
Terry Callier,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Nirvana,
Scan 7,
Lou Reed,
Spandau Ballet,
Magma,
The Slits,
Altered Images,
MDC,
Rakim,
Bang On A Can,
Sixth Finger,
Jandek,
Loose Ends,
Marcia Griffiths,
Man Parrish,
Intrusion,
D'Angelo,
Don Cherry,
Ponytail,
L. Decosne,
Masters at Work,
Freddie Wadling,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.