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 Romania and from Salvador.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 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 Organ to the funk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Clear Light. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every U.S. Maple record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gories record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Derrick May,
Lou Christie,
Ohio Players,
Dawn Penn,
Tropical Tobacco,
New York Dolls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Connie Case,
A Certain Ratio,
Inner City,
Pagans,
The Star Department,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marine Girls,
Pere Ubu,
Glambeats Corp.,
John Coltrane,
Warren Ellis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Wolf Eyes,
Crooked Eye,
Gang of Four,
Mo-Dettes,
Nico,
Rapeman,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
The Count Five,
Pussy Galore,
The Mojo Men,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Neu!,
Kerri Chandler,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Kurtis Blow,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Siglo XX,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Japan,
Blake Baxter,
The Standells,
Gang Gang Dance,
Boredoms,
The Toasters,
Mary Jane Girls,
Symarip,
D'Angelo,
Bob Dylan,
Flipper,
EPMD,
Nik Kershaw,
Simply Red,
Sight & Sound,
LL Cool J,
Depeche Mode,
Ultravox,
Kayak,
Fifty Foot Hose,
China Crisis,
Khruangbin,
Lucky Dragons,
Jeru the Damaja,
Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson, Aaron Thompson.
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.