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 Latvia and from Milan.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Tokyo.
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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Henry Cow to the rap 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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Dave Clark Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Agent Orange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Faraquet,
Tropical Tobacco,
The United States of America,
Country Teasers,
Camberwell Now,
Easy Going,
kango's stein massive,
The Victims,
Al Stewart,
Nation of Ulysses,
John Cale,
Danielle Patucci,
Dark Day,
Radio Birdman,
Nik Kershaw,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Sister Nancy,
Laurel Aitken,
Gichy Dan,
Ludus,
Absolute Body Control,
Archie Shepp,
Flamin' Groovies,
Scion,
The Music Machine,
The Dirtbombs,
Roxy Music,
EPMD,
Wally Richardson,
The J.B.'s,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Skaos,
Smog,
Masters at Work,
Bob Dylan,
Arcadia,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Los Fastidios,
The Barracudas,
JFA,
The Last Poets,
Andrew Hill,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fear,
Jeff Lynne,
Rod Modell,
Donny Hathaway,
Prince Buster,
Maleditus Sound,
Letta Mbulu,
Throbbing Gristle,
Nirvana,
The Skatalites,
Pantytec,
Terry Callier,
Inner City,
Eden Ahbez,
The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators, The Gladiators.
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.