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 Angola and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 organ 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 Electric Prunes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Make Up. All the underground hits.
All Spandau Ballet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every PIL record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 10cc record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Easy Going,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Man Eating Sloth,
David Axelrod,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bob Dylan,
Metal Thangz,
CMW,
Roy Ayers,
Stockholm Monsters,
Bobby Womack,
Barclay James Harvest,
Sparks,
Guru Guru,
Fat Boys,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Knickerbockers,
Yusef Lateef,
Angry Samoans,
Iggy Pop,
Piero Umiliani,
The Slackers,
The Mojo Men,
kango's stein massive,
Intrusion,
Porter Ricks,
Fugazi,
Warsaw,
Tropical Tobacco,
Traffic Nightmare,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crash Course in Science,
Amon Düül II,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
These Immortal Souls,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Nirvana,
Panda Bear,
The Modern Lovers,
Stetsasonic,
Lungfish,
Cecil Taylor,
Colin Newman,
Popol Vuh,
Jacques Brel,
Rod Modell,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Barry Ungar,
Fatback Band,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Al Stewart,
Unrelated Segments,
Soft Machine,
Ten City,
Supertramp,
Dual Sessions,
Rekid,
Kevin Saunderson,
Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader, Cal Tjader.
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.