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 Grenada and from London.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Terror Squad Feat. Camron to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sunsets and Hearts. All the underground hits.
All Vaughan Mason & Crew tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every This Heat 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Toni Rubio record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crime,
The Neon Judgement,
Excepter,
Aural Exciters,
The Detroit Cobras,
Loose Ends,
Colin Newman,
The Dirtbombs,
The Evens,
Los Fastidios,
China Crisis,
Derrick Morgan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Dual Sessions,
Kenny Larkin,
Pantytec,
Todd Rundgren,
The Trojans,
Arcadia,
Easy Going,
Technova,
DJ Style,
Anthony Braxton,
Judy Mowatt,
Chris Corsano,
The Misunderstood,
D'Angelo,
F. McDonald,
Quadrant,
Eurythmics,
Patti Smith,
Ten City,
Funkadelic,
Audionom,
Dark Day,
the Swans,
Cecil Taylor,
Ultravox,
Lakeside,
Marmalade,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Chrome,
Man Eating Sloth,
Delta 5,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Sonics,
Neu!,
Livin' Joy,
Masters at Work,
Organ,
Magazine,
Joe Finger,
The Move,
Eve St. Jones,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Young Marble Giants,
Yazoo,
Porter Ricks,
Soulsonic Force,
The Searchers,
This Heat,
Franke, Franke, Franke, Franke.
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.