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 New York.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Big Star show in Memphis.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Five Americans to the funk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All D'Angelo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Monks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Dawn Penn,
The Star Department,
Ken Boothe,
Los Fastidios,
One Last Wish,
Sällskapet,
The Techniques,
The Moleskins,
The Names,
Quantec,
Eden Ahbez,
Kevin Saunderson,
Amon Düül II,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Blues Magoos,
Can,
Fort Wilson Riot,
T. Rex,
Franke,
John Coltrane,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Maurizio,
Jimmy McGriff,
Eve St. Jones,
Pantaleimon,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Severed Heads,
Loose Ends,
Spandau Ballet,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kerri Chandler,
Derrick May,
Popol Vuh,
The United States of America,
The Toasters,
Bill Wells,
Laurel Aitken,
Letta Mbulu,
Thompson Twins,
Grey Daturas,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mandrill,
The Slackers,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Blancmange,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Dead C,
Nik Kershaw,
The Doobie Brothers,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Seeds,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
David Bowie,
Eric B and Rakim,
These Immortal Souls,
Oblivians,
Anthony Braxton,
Little Man, Little Man, Little Man, Little Man.
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.