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 Maldives and from Madrid.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 organ 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 Black Bananas to the rock 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 Flipper. All the underground hits.
All Loose Ends tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Electric Prunes 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mad Mike,
Nation of Ulysses,
Porter Ricks,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Fad Gadget,
MDC,
Deadbeat,
Aural Exciters,
the Swans,
Reagan Youth,
Young Marble Giants,
Bad Manners,
Spandau Ballet,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Quando Quango,
The Angels of Light,
Shuggie Otis,
Boogie Down Productions,
Sexual Harrassment,
Y Pants,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Zero Boys,
Barrington Levy,
the Soft Cell,
Lightning Bolt,
Amon Düül II,
Japan,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Blake Baxter,
Alison Limerick,
Livin' Joy,
The Evens,
Cecil Taylor,
Urselle,
The Pretty Things,
Soul Sonic Force,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Doobie Brothers,
Rakim,
The Motions,
Johnny Osbourne,
Severed Heads,
Radio Birdman,
Joe Finger,
The Raincoats,
Charles Mingus,
The Misunderstood,
a-ha,
Lucky Dragons,
Easy Going,
Terry Callier,
Marmalade,
Derrick Morgan,
Boz Scaggs,
Harpers Bizarre,
Hot Snakes,
Warsaw,
Jandek, Jandek, Jandek, Jandek.
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.