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 New Zealand and from Tehran.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Rekid to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Ten City. All the underground hits.
All Livin' Joy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Essential Logic 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 theremin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eden Ahbez record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Residents,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Masters at Work,
Silicon Teens,
A Certain Ratio,
Don Cherry,
Sugar Minott,
Young Marble Giants,
the Bar-Kays,
Graham Central Station,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Thee Headcoats,
Max Romeo,
Ronnie Foster,
China Crisis,
Heaven 17,
Rufus Thomas,
Popol Vuh,
The Slits,
Marmalade,
Sam Rivers,
Japan,
The Sound,
Lalo Schifrin,
Toni Rubio,
Dawn Penn,
Roger Hodgson,
Jacob Miller,
Althea and Donna,
Sex Pistols,
Das Ding,
The Trojans,
Liliput,
Mantronix,
The Gun Club,
Average White Band,
Black Pus,
X-101,
Funkadelic,
Laurel Aitken,
The Techniques,
Youth Brigade,
Nas,
Organ,
Camouflage,
Yazoo,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Grass Roots,
Pole,
Ultimate Spinach,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Hardrive,
Zero Boys,
Howard Jones,
Gabor Szabo,
Technova,
Radio Birdman,
F. McDonald,
The Five Americans,
Index,
Robert Wyatt,
Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren, Todd Rundgren.
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.