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 Turkmenistan and from Tehran.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Seoul.
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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
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 Loose Ends to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Crispy Ambulance. All the underground hits.
All Magazine tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Pop Group record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 sitar and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
The Gories,
The J.B.'s,
The Fugs,
Pussy Galore,
Mandrill,
Hoover,
Radiohead,
The Zeros,
Franke,
Index,
Infiniti,
Wasted Youth,
Funky Four + One,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Glambeats Corp.,
Kas Product,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Rapeman,
Joe Finger,
Roy Ayers,
Niagra,
Audionom,
Letta Mbulu,
Crooked Eye,
La Düsseldorf,
Lou Christie,
Joy Division,
Drive Like Jehu,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Zero Boys,
Hasil Adkins,
John Lydon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
KRS-One,
The Black Dice,
Alton Ellis,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Pole,
CMW,
Thee Headcoats,
the Normal,
the Association,
Lalann,
Brick,
Kayak,
Isaac Hayes,
Groovy Waters,
The Count Five,
The Selecter,
Kool Moe Dee,
A Certain Ratio,
the Slits,
Andrew Hill,
Magma,
Ornette Coleman,
Todd Terry,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scion,
Gerry Rafferty,
Johnny Osbourne,
X-102,
The Victims,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.