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 Maldives and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 1973 at the first Television practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Roy Ayers to the disco kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Pussy Galore tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Judy Mowatt,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Quadrant,
Monolake,
The Durutti Column,
H. Thieme,
Colin Newman,
Arab on Radar,
Gastr Del Sol,
Thompson Twins,
The Fire Engines,
Lakeside,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Tremeloes,
the Human League,
Soft Machine,
Bobby Byrd,
Japan,
Vladislav Delay,
The Victims,
Wasted Youth,
Moebius,
8 Eyed Spy,
Black Bananas,
Trumans Water,
Tim Buckley,
The Fortunes,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
John Coltrane,
The Mojo Men,
Rufus Thomas,
Ultimate Spinach,
Slave,
Brass Construction,
Tropical Tobacco,
Kurtis Blow,
The Blues Magoos,
The Martian,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Dual Sessions,
Severed Heads,
L. Decosne,
Newcleus,
Man Eating Sloth,
Youth Brigade,
The Motions,
Sight & Sound,
Steve Hackett,
Sarah Menescal,
Alton Ellis,
X-101,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Young Marble Giants,
Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman, Ornette Coleman.
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.