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 Uganda and from Jakarta.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 linndrum 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 Khruangbin to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Anakelly. All the underground hits.
All Amon Düül II tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eddi Front record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Blues Magoos record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
David Bowie,
Ornette Coleman,
The Blackbyrds,
Matthew Bourne,
the Soft Cell,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Gap Band,
Morten Harket,
Agent Orange,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Detroit Cobras,
Babytalk,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roger Hodgson,
Dark Day,
The Skatalites,
The Residents,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jeff Lynne,
The Offenders,
ABC,
Bluetip,
Yusef Lateef,
JFA,
Desert Stars,
Au Pairs,
Don Cherry,
Rod Modell,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Brick,
Scrapy,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Slits,
Fela Kuti,
Stereo Dub,
Arthur Verocai,
Subhumans,
Avey Tare,
The Shadows of Knight,
Funky Four + One,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
cv313,
Barbara Tucker,
Swell Maps,
Dawn Penn,
Lyres,
Thee Headcoats,
Interpol,
X-Ray Spex,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Mantronix,
Gang Starr,
Trumans Water,
R.M.O.,
Aural Exciters,
The Fortunes,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Technova,
Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti, Infiniti.
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.