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 Mauritius and from Mexico City.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1965 at the first Beefheart practice in a loft in Lancaster.
I was working on the marimba 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 Buckinghams to the rock kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlbäck tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Don Cherry 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Arab on Radar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Joe Smooth,
Anthony Braxton,
Skriet,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Hardrive,
Shoche,
The Knickerbockers,
Absolute Body Control,
Laurel Aitken,
Kool Moe Dee,
Derrick May,
Ten City,
Chris Corsano,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Barracudas,
Byron Stingily,
H. Thieme,
The Toasters,
Cal Tjader,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Charles Mingus,
The Victims,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Liliput,
Porter Ricks,
The Blackbyrds,
The Durutti Column,
Junior Murvin,
Marc Almond,
Banda Bassotti,
Reagan Youth,
Flipper,
Theoretical Girls,
Amazonics,
Bobby Hutcherson,
James Chance & The Contortions,
John Holt,
D'Angelo,
Reuben Wilson,
Minor Threat,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
David McCallum,
Severed Heads,
Dark Day,
Donald Byrd,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Detroit Cobras,
Black Moon,
Guru Guru,
Stereo Dub,
Crash Course in Science,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Quando Quango,
Kayak,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fluxion,
Whodini,
Pharoah Sanders,
Black Bananas,
The Gap Band,
Pole, Pole, Pole, Pole.
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.