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 Turkmenistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1980 at the first Cybotron practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro 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 The Monochrome Set to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 AZ. All the underground hits.
All The Grass Roots tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Major Organ And The Adding Machine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Clear Light record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Dorothy Ashby,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
48th St. Collective,
Cal Tjader,
Fela Kuti,
Lower 48,
The Fortunes,
Tommy Roe,
Yazoo,
Radiohead,
DNA,
Amazonics,
Sonic Youth,
Animal Collective,
Delon & Dalcan,
Magma,
Arcadia,
The American Breed,
The Misunderstood,
The Knickerbockers,
The Mighty Diamonds,
R.M.O.,
Skarface,
ABC,
Kevin Saunderson,
H. Thieme,
Los Fastidios,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Flamin' Groovies,
Depeche Mode,
Isaac Hayes,
LL Cool J,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Velvet Underground,
Morten Harket,
Robert Wyatt,
Flipper,
Television,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Sonics,
Black Pus,
Junior Murvin,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
John Coltrane,
MC5,
Supertramp,
Jerry's Kids,
Marine Girls,
Brand Nubian,
The Beau Brummels,
The Move,
The Gap Band,
Grauzone,
The Zeros,
The Dirtbombs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Royal Trux,
The Black Dice,
Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd, Donald Byrd.
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.