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 Costa Rica and from Delhi.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Saints to the rap kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Busters. All the underground hits.
All Gregory Isaacs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Grass Roots record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wasted Youth,
Freddie Wadling,
Bauhaus,
Skriet,
John Foxx,
Kenny Larkin,
Aural Exciters,
Black Pus,
Kerri Chandler,
Bobby Womack,
Jacques Brel,
Jandek,
The Grass Roots,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Tommy Roe,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Real Kids,
Infiniti,
Sister Nancy,
Oblivians,
Make Up,
The American Breed,
Kerrie Biddell,
Flipper,
Joe Smooth,
The Motions,
La Düsseldorf,
Johnny Osbourne,
Slave,
Byron Stingily,
Dark Day,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Liliput,
D'Angelo,
Scion,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Bluetip,
The Associates,
The Electric Prunes,
Pharoah Sanders,
Ken Boothe,
Schoolly D,
Sparks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Desert Stars,
Black Sheep,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
The Music Machine,
Wolf Eyes,
Magazine,
Animal Collective,
Robert Hood,
Pole,
KRS-One,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Saints,
Marc Almond,
Fluxion,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
London Community Gospel Choir,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
A Certain Ratio,
Grauzone,
The Angels of Light,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.