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 Comoros and from New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 spring reverb 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 In Retrospect to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Eden Ahbez. All the underground hits.
All Lindisfarne tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Royal Family And The Poor 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Liaisons Dangereuses record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alice Coltrane,
Masters at Work,
Arthur Verocai,
The Tremeloes,
The Evens,
Drive Like Jehu,
Johnny Clarke,
Warsaw,
Mary Jane Girls,
Neil Young,
Stetsasonic,
H. Thieme,
U.S. Maple,
Black Moon,
Yusef Lateef,
Roy Ayers,
Curtis Mayfield,
Organ,
Gastr Del Sol,
Gabor Szabo,
The Selecter,
Yazoo,
Underground Resistance,
Al Stewart,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Wings,
The Residents,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Count Five,
Gregory Isaacs,
Nils Olav,
Donny Hathaway,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Ponytail,
John Foxx,
Fatback Band,
Joe Finger,
Minutemen,
David Axelrod,
Bill Wells,
Sex Pistols,
Scan 7,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Star Department,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Tubeway Army,
Eve St. Jones,
Erykah Badu,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Royal Trux,
Eden Ahbez,
Juan Atkins,
Harpers Bizarre,
Pagans,
Lou Christie,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fela Kuti,
Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive, Hardrive.
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.