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 Croatia and from Toronto.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Shanghai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 One Last Wish to the jazz 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 Gang Gang Dance. All the underground hits.
All Echo & the Bunnymen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Massinfluence,
Grey Daturas,
Das Ding,
Kerrie Biddell,
Bobby Womack,
Fela Kuti,
The Martian,
U.S. Maple,
the Normal,
Scientists,
The Knickerbockers,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Kinks,
Khruangbin,
Eli Mardock,
Eddi Front,
Absolute Body Control,
Drexciya,
ABC,
KRS-One,
Rites of Spring,
The Skatalites,
UT,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Kas Product,
The Gladiators,
The Searchers,
Sun Ra,
Lungfish,
The Tremeloes,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Deepchord,
Althea and Donna,
Ultravox,
Joey Negro,
The Victims,
Skaos,
Dark Day,
Robert Hood,
X-101,
F. McDonald,
Half Japanese,
Crispian St. Peters,
Moby Grape,
Tommy Roe,
Little Man,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Buzzcocks,
Soul II Soul,
Fad Gadget,
Rekid,
Unrelated Segments,
The Beau Brummels,
Mission of Burma,
Simply Red,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Association,
Electric Prunes,
Second Layer,
Bang On A Can,
Marvin Gaye,
Idris Muhammad,
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.