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 Guinea-Bissau and from Bremen.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 oboe 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 Josef K to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Lou Reed & John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Moss Icon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ash Ra Tempel 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Panda Bear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Tommy Roe,
Organ,
Loose Ends,
Pharoah Sanders,
Maurizio,
Sixth Finger,
Underground Resistance,
Freddie Wadling,
Ohio Players,
The Blackbyrds,
Desert Stars,
Nirvana,
The Raincoats,
Arthur Verocai,
Fat Boys,
Metal Thangz,
Schoolly D,
The Fuzztones,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soft Machine,
Alison Limerick,
Crispy Ambulance,
Grey Daturas,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Nik Kershaw,
Skaos,
Davy DMX,
Ponytail,
The Fortunes,
Wings,
Laurel Aitken,
The Gories,
Chris Corsano,
David Bowie,
The Toasters,
Second Layer,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Inner City,
Funkadelic,
Au Pairs,
Max Romeo,
X-102,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Harry Pussy,
Carl Craig,
Simply Red,
The Monochrome Set,
Ultimate Spinach,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Crime,
The Index,
Isaac Hayes,
Can,
Jacques Brel,
Jeru the Damaja,
L. Decosne,
Stiv Bators,
Severed Heads,
The Happenings,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Gerry Rafferty,
Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station, Graham Central Station.
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.