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 Mexico and from Spokane.
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 1960 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Sunsets and Hearts to the disco 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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All the Sonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Angels of Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Desert Stars,
Jeff Mills,
the Fania All-Stars,
8 Eyed Spy,
Connie Case,
Traffic Nightmare,
Marshall Jefferson,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Lakeside,
Chrome,
The Martian,
Brand Nubian,
The Buckinghams,
Shuggie Otis,
The Blackbyrds,
T. Rex,
Sarah Menescal,
Amon Düül,
Derrick May,
Hasil Adkins,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Pussy Galore,
The Slits,
The Mojo Men,
Stiv Bators,
The Names,
Youth Brigade,
Soft Cell,
Magma,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Barry Ungar,
Big Daddy Kane,
Das Ding,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
R.M.O.,
Chris Corsano,
Rosa Yemen,
The Dave Clark Five,
David Axelrod,
Crispy Ambulance,
Man Parrish,
Television Personalities,
Juan Atkins,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Godley & Creme,
Sandy B,
Adolescents,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scientists,
Masters at Work,
Sonny Sharrock,
Cymande,
The Wake,
The Fuzztones,
Minutemen,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Hardrive,
Vainqueur,
Reuben Wilson,
The Victims,
the Association, the Association, the Association, the Association.
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.