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 Estonia and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Khruangbin to the disco 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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pierre Henry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Patti Smith,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Bad Manners,
Althea and Donna,
The Fortunes,
The Red Krayola,
The Beau Brummels,
The Slackers,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
the Normal,
Brass Construction,
Brothers Johnson,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Black Pus,
Deakin,
Dark Day,
New York Dolls,
Sam Rivers,
Traffic Nightmare,
Darondo,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Monks,
Swell Maps,
Lyres,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Accadde A,
Frankie Knuckles,
Derrick Morgan,
Carl Craig,
Japan,
Infiniti,
Ohio Players,
Erasure,
Underground Resistance,
Bob Dylan,
Radio Birdman,
Swans,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Martian,
Urselle,
Susan Cadogan,
Moss Icon,
Electric Prunes,
Byron Stingily,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Modern Lovers,
Pole,
Au Pairs,
Gang Gang Dance,
Half Japanese,
Johnny Clarke,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Scratch Acid,
Neu!,
Sonic Youth,
Lungfish,
Fugazi,
Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol, Gastr Del Sol.
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.