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 Afghanistan and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the organ 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 Wally Richardson to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All the Fania All-Stars tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jesper Dahlbäck 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Flamin' Groovies,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Smog,
10cc,
Judy Mowatt,
Nik Kershaw,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Eden Ahbez,
a-ha,
The Invisible,
Ken Boothe,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Bang On A Can,
Jandek,
Saccharine Trust,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lalann,
Laurel Aitken,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Jimmy McGriff,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Theoretical Girls,
Supertramp,
The Golliwogs,
Swans,
Kool Moe Dee,
kango's stein massive,
Half Japanese,
8 Eyed Spy,
Sun City Girls,
The Dead C,
The Real Kids,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Techniques,
Donny Hathaway,
Warsaw,
Reagan Youth,
the Association,
UT,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Cure,
Siglo XX,
The Shadows of Knight,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lakeside,
Magazine,
Toni Rubio,
The Selecter,
Funkadelic,
Marc Almond,
The Leaves,
The Divine Comedy,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Bluetip,
Sixth Finger,
Vainqueur,
John Holt,
The Fall,
Zero Boys,
EPMD,
Pharoah Sanders,
Rekid, Rekid, Rekid, Rekid.
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.