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 Bangladesh 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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Monks to the grunge 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 Tropical Tobacco. All the underground hits.
All The Peanut Butter Conspiracy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fluxion 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Simply Red record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Leaves,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeru the Damaja,
Con Funk Shun,
The Saints,
The Sound,
Pylon,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Quantec,
The Count Five,
The Slits,
Tim Buckley,
Joe Smooth,
D'Angelo,
Grey Daturas,
Deakin,
Gastr Del Sol,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Mojo Men,
Joensuu 1685,
Tom Boy,
The Blues Magoos,
Rod Modell,
Pole,
The Zeros,
Eve St. Jones,
Al Stewart,
Nik Kershaw,
Man Parrish,
Barrington Levy,
Jacques Brel,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Marmalade,
Erasure,
Lucky Dragons,
The Wake,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Peter & Gordon,
The Slackers,
Soft Machine,
Swans,
Ludus,
Michelle Simonal,
Ponytail,
Rhythm & Sound,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Monochrome Set,
Black Sheep,
Cecil Taylor,
Delon & Dalcan,
Derrick May,
The Music Machine,
David Axelrod,
Prince Buster,
Faust,
Josef K,
Eric Dolphy,
The Five Americans,
Boredoms,
Symarip,
Sandy B,
Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside, Lakeside.
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.