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 Morocco and from Manila.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 chamberlin 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 Gerry Rafferty to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Panda Bear. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Thee Headcoats record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
PIL,
Derrick Morgan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Television Personalities,
Banda Bassotti,
Brick,
Funkadelic,
Khruangbin,
Moebius,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Y Pants,
The Tremeloes,
Rites of Spring,
Bobby Womack,
Davy DMX,
Black Moon,
Boredoms,
the Association,
Ken Boothe,
The Monochrome Set,
The Misunderstood,
The Count Five,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Barrington Levy,
Stetsasonic,
Basic Channel,
Slave,
Howard Jones,
Eli Mardock,
The Blues Magoos,
kango's stein massive,
ABBA,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Animal Collective,
The Human League,
Erykah Badu,
Echospace,
48th St. Collective,
Nick Fraelich,
Sight & Sound,
The Detroit Cobras,
Camberwell Now,
Q65,
Rosa Yemen,
Kerrie Biddell,
Donald Byrd,
The Dirtbombs,
The J.B.'s,
Skaos,
Fatback Band,
Aaron Thompson,
Roger Hodgson,
Infiniti,
Bang On A Can,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eddi Front,
Anthony Braxton,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Birthday Party,
John Coltrane,
FM Einheit,
Amon Düül II,
Ornette Coleman,
The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams, The Buckinghams.
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.