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 Grenada and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976.
I was there at the first Chic show in New York.
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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Smoke to the grime 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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Minny Pops tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mo-Dettes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cal Tjader record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
June of 44,
Derrick May,
The Count Five,
Stiv Bators,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ronan,
X-101,
PIL,
Boredoms,
Make Up,
Wings,
Minutemen,
The Fire Engines,
Rufus Thomas,
Goldenarms,
Au Pairs,
Avey Tare,
The Slackers,
Neil Young,
Joe Smooth,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Maurizio,
Janne Schatter,
48th St. Collective,
Jawbox,
The Moody Blues,
Intrusion,
Cecil Taylor,
Deakin,
Qualms,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
The Techniques,
Interpol,
Archie Shepp,
Amazonics,
Los Fastidios,
Monks,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Delon & Dalcan,
Zapp,
The Motions,
The Vogues,
Marc Almond,
Pulsallama,
The Invisible,
Desert Stars,
Jacques Brel,
the Swans,
Dead Boys,
Absolute Body Control,
kango's stein massive,
Kenny Larkin,
Mr. Review,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Eden Ahbez,
The Music Machine,
Tomorrow,
Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler, Albert Ayler.
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.