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 Uzbekistan and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Jakarta.
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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the 808 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 Con Funk Shun to the disco 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 Vaughan Mason & Crew. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Man Parrish 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Yellowson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Grauzone,
Hoover,
John Coltrane,
Shuggie Otis,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Circle Jerks,
The Zeros,
Mark Hollis,
The Associates,
Nick Fraelich,
Lungfish,
Altered Images,
Pantytec,
Donny Hathaway,
Connie Case,
The Saints,
Eric Copeland,
Leonard Cohen,
Kaleidoscope,
the Association,
In Retrospect,
Rotary Connection,
The Slackers,
Dawn Penn,
T. Rex,
The Sonics,
The Blues Magoos,
Jacob Miller,
Franke,
Stereo Dub,
The Leaves,
The Fuzztones,
Banda Bassotti,
The Residents,
Roy Ayers,
The Doors,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Boz Scaggs,
Johnny Osbourne,
Japan,
The Tremeloes,
X-Ray Spex,
Young Marble Giants,
The Knickerbockers,
The Doobie Brothers,
Soulsonic Force,
Warsaw,
Electric Prunes,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Mantronix,
The Alarm Clocks,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
the Germs,
Cameo,
Ohio Players,
H. Thieme,
Ultra Naté,
Idris Muhammad,
The Victims,
Harpers Bizarre,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.