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 Lithuania and from Columbus.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Seoul.
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 1976 at the first Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 the Fania All-Stars to the dance kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Graham Central Station record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fall,
Alice Coltrane,
Theoretical Girls,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Detroit Cobras,
JFA,
the Fania All-Stars,
Index,
Sister Nancy,
Johnny Clarke,
Bobby Womack,
Funky Four + One,
Mad Mike,
Ice-T,
Make Up,
Bronski Beat,
Sun City Girls,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Vladislav Delay,
Ludus,
Gang Starr,
Scrapy,
The Seeds,
Pere Ubu,
Michelle Simonal,
Nico,
Archie Shepp,
Crispian St. Peters,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
48th St. Collective,
Faraquet,
Curtis Mayfield,
Rites of Spring,
Brass Construction,
The Index,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
The Fire Engines,
Goldenarms,
Youth Brigade,
Idris Muhammad,
The Red Krayola,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Adolescents,
The Remains,
Sällskapet,
Scratch Acid,
Drexciya,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Lebanon Hanover,
the Association,
Kenny Larkin,
Scott Walker,
Agitation Free,
Joe Smooth,
Magazine,
Howard Jones,
The Invisible,
Reuben Wilson,
DNA,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
MDC,
The Kinks,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.