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 India and from Manila.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Siglo XX to the dance 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 Bootsy's Rubber Band. All the underground hits.
All Idris Muhammad tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Alarm Clocks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Hill record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Terry Callier,
Symarip,
The Durutti Column,
Wolf Eyes,
Connie Case,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sparks,
Ossler,
Janne Schatter,
the Human League,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Cameo,
Fear,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sonny Sharrock,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
X-102,
The American Breed,
Ornette Coleman,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Ohio Players,
Black Moon,
Agent Orange,
JFA,
Ronan,
Prince Buster,
The Stooges,
Max Romeo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Deakin,
Bauhaus,
Michelle Simonal,
Man Eating Sloth,
Electric Light Orchestra,
These Immortal Souls,
Roy Ayers,
Young Marble Giants,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Sixth Finger,
Big Daddy Kane,
Radiohead,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Jimmy McGriff,
Harry Pussy,
Jacques Brel,
Jesper Dahlback,
Cheater Slicks,
The Mojo Men,
Piero Umiliani,
Ken Boothe,
Arcadia,
Kerrie Biddell,
The J.B.'s,
Bobby Byrd,
Electric Prunes,
Scott Walker,
Amon Düül II,
Funkadelic,
Marmalade,
Flash Fearless,
The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter, The Selecter.
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.