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 Georgia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
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 1960 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 sitar 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 Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme to the grunge kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Max Romeo. All the underground hits.
All The Modern Lovers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nation of Ulysses record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Easy Going record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Reed,
Althea and Donna,
The Offenders,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Ice-T,
June of 44,
Slick Rick,
Crime,
LL Cool J,
Pulsallama,
The Dave Clark Five,
Aaron Thompson,
Faraquet,
Juan Atkins,
Au Pairs,
Boz Scaggs,
Soul Sonic Force,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fatback Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Joyce Sims,
The United States of America,
Tres Demented,
Max Romeo,
The Real Kids,
Mr. Review,
Anthony Braxton,
Kas Product,
Glambeats Corp.,
Chris Corsano,
The Smoke,
Bush Tetras,
Suicide,
Aswad,
John Coltrane,
Cymande,
Mantronix,
The Sound,
Magma,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
T.S.O.L.,
This Heat,
Average White Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
UT,
The Skatalites,
D'Angelo,
Shoche,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Moody Blues,
Terry Callier,
Matthew Bourne,
Theoretical Girls,
Gang of Four,
Audionom,
Technova,
Deakin,
Gil Scott Heron,
Subhumans,
The New Christs,
the Slits,
Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti, Fela Kuti.
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.