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 Djibouti and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron 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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb 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 D'Angelo to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Maurizio. All the underground hits.
All Grey Daturas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joey Negro record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Chris Corsano,
Charles Mingus,
Smog,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lower 48,
The Pretty Things,
Funky Four + One,
Tears for Fears,
8 Eyed Spy,
Rites of Spring,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Birthday Party,
Zapp,
Flash Fearless,
Marc Almond,
Boz Scaggs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Count Five,
Kas Product,
Nico,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Cale,
Deakin,
Das Ding,
Rufus Thomas,
Cameo,
Tubeway Army,
The Cure,
Metal Thangz,
Kerri Chandler,
UT,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Inner City,
Man Eating Sloth,
Young Marble Giants,
The Kinks,
Guru Guru,
The New Christs,
Amon Düül II,
Kayak,
Ossler,
Tom Boy,
The Standells,
Magma,
Franke,
The Cramps,
Gong,
Fat Boys,
Crispy Ambulance,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Slave,
Peter & Gordon,
Depeche Mode,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Bobby Sherman,
Hashim,
Judy Mowatt,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Althea and Donna,
Graham Central Station,
Aural Exciters,
Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar, Arab on Radar.
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.