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 the UAE and from Lyon.
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 1961 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx to the punk 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 Roxette. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 chamberlin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba 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?
The Gun Club,
Eden Ahbez,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bill Wells,
Khruangbin,
Sandy B,
Joensuu 1685,
David Axelrod,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Alarm Clocks,
Intrusion,
The Dead C,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Junior Murvin,
Youth Brigade,
World's Most,
H. Thieme,
the Association,
Inner City,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Cluster,
Ossler,
Drexciya,
Deadbeat,
Jacob Miller,
Mr. Review,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Dawn Penn,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Essential Logic,
Lou Reed,
Siglo XX,
the Slits,
cv313,
Joey Negro,
Oneida,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hot Snakes,
Cheater Slicks,
Rotary Connection,
Smog,
The Real Kids,
Neu!,
Flash Fearless,
Scan 7,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Wasted Youth,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Young Rascals,
Kevin Saunderson,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Delta 5,
The Zeros,
New Age Steppers,
Don Cherry,
Popol Vuh,
The Happenings,
The Divine Comedy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Birthday Party,
Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U, Q and Not U.
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.