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 Ivory Coast and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Jimmy McGriff to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Names. All the underground hits.
All Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every David Axelrod record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Flamin' Groovies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
FM Einheit,
Fat Boys,
Fear,
Marmalade,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Niagra,
Lalann,
Franke,
The Detroit Cobras,
Mission of Burma,
The Associates,
Soul Sonic Force,
Sex Pistols,
Sandy B,
Surgeon,
Fatback Band,
Michelle Simonal,
Panda Bear,
Avey Tare,
Nico,
Barbara Tucker,
Hoover,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Glenn Branca,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
CMW,
Supertramp,
Dorothy Ashby,
Simply Red,
Goldenarms,
Symarip,
The Buckinghams,
The Doobie Brothers,
Barclay James Harvest,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
PIL,
Lou Reed,
Graham Central Station,
Matthew Bourne,
Section 25,
Bobby Byrd,
The Neon Judgement,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Grey Daturas,
Eddi Front,
Eric Copeland,
The United States of America,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jerry Gold Smith,
10cc,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sparks,
The Modern Lovers,
The Blues Magoos,
Sonic Youth,
The Dead C,
Piero Umiliani,
The Happenings,
The Music Machine,
Ken Boothe,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.