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 Nicaragua and from London.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1977 at the first Mistral practice in a loft in Amsterdam.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Eden Ahbez to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All the Human League tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Monks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Robert Wyatt,
Sun City Girls,
Angry Samoans,
The Selecter,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Byron Stingily,
Lebanon Hanover,
Carl Craig,
Parry Music,
Blossom Toes,
Bill Near,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Joensuu 1685,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fugazi,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Zeros,
Ten City,
Unwound,
Liliput,
Rosa Yemen,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
H. Thieme,
The Human League,
Skriet,
Massinfluence,
Don Cherry,
Josef K,
Morten Harket,
The Moody Blues,
Ossler,
Black Pus,
Peter and Kerry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
X-Ray Spex,
T.S.O.L.,
Barry Ungar,
Harry Pussy,
The Velvet Underground,
Loose Ends,
The Toasters,
L. Decosne,
Donny Hathaway,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Raincoats,
Tres Demented,
The Pretty Things,
The Slits,
Barbara Tucker,
The Real Kids,
Connie Case,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Electric Prunes,
The Techniques,
Anthony Braxton,
June of 44,
The Angels of Light,
Silicon Teens,
Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer, Second Layer.
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.