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 Andorra and from Salvador.
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 Tehran and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 The Young Rascals to the crunk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Howard Jones 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 snare and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mr. Review record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
Joey Negro,
Dennis Brown,
David Axelrod,
Nirvana,
Pulsallama,
Angry Samoans,
Accadde A,
The American Breed,
Eddi Front,
Absolute Body Control,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Blackbyrds,
48th St. Collective,
Cal Tjader,
Black Flag,
Altered Images,
Organ,
Brass Construction,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Matthew Halsall,
The Saints,
T. Rex,
Scientists,
Suburban Knight,
Quando Quango,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Parry Music,
Jerry's Kids,
Sister Nancy,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ten City,
Desert Stars,
Section 25,
the Association,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Radio Birdman,
The Electric Prunes,
Ossler,
The Real Kids,
Funkadelic,
Barrington Levy,
Porter Ricks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
World's Most,
Franke,
The Slits,
Clear Light,
Man Parrish,
Agent Orange,
Rhythm & Sound,
R.M.O.,
Jeff Lynne,
Masters at Work,
The Mojo Men,
10cc,
Urselle,
Stereo Dub,
Make Up,
EPMD,
Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers, Roy Ayers.
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.