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 Peru and from Accra.
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 1966 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Shanghai.
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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the rhodes 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 Suburban Knight to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Wasted Youth. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Holt 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cowsills record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Flesh Eaters,
David Bowie,
World's Most,
Delon & Dalcan,
Kerri Chandler,
the Fania All-Stars,
Wire,
John Cale,
The Angels of Light,
The Doors,
Radio Birdman,
Crispy Ambulance,
Donny Hathaway,
Liliput,
Eve St. Jones,
B.T. Express,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Stiv Bators,
Talk Talk,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Camberwell Now,
the Bar-Kays,
Outsiders,
Anakelly,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Swans,
Rites of Spring,
Morten Harket,
Trumans Water,
Lakeside,
DNA,
Jacques Brel,
Joy Division,
Public Enemy,
Quantec,
Carl Craig,
Con Funk Shun,
Loose Ends,
Average White Band,
Icehouse,
Make Up,
Schoolly D,
Maleditus Sound,
Index,
Public Image Ltd.,
Robert Hood,
Thompson Twins,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Brothers Johnson,
The Velvet Underground,
Scratch Acid,
Eric Copeland,
Patti Smith,
Shuggie Otis,
Neil Young,
Brick,
Fatback Band,
X-101,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
D'Angelo,
Barry Ungar,
The Vogues,
Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet, Radiopuhelimet.
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.