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 Samoa and from Sao Paulo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television 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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Tokyo.
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 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 ABBA to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Fugs. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mummies record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joe Smooth record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
E-Dancer,
Von Mondo,
Wings,
Grandmaster Flash,
Skaos,
The Associates,
The Selecter,
Swell Maps,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Residents,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Beau Brummels,
Don Cherry,
Monolake,
Alice Coltrane,
Roy Ayers,
Lou Christie,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Moon,
Scion,
Jimmy McGriff,
James White and The Blacks,
Minnie Riperton,
Supertramp,
Byron Stingily,
Theoretical Girls,
Arab on Radar,
Lungfish,
UT,
Television Personalities,
The American Breed,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Todd Rundgren,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobby Womack,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
T. Rex,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
This Heat,
The Leaves,
Boredoms,
Charles Mingus,
Q and Not U,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Television,
The Doors,
The Happenings,
Nils Olav,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Gerry Rafferty,
Jerry's Kids,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Smog,
Amon Düül,
Barrington Levy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Grass Roots,
The Pretty Things,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
D'Angelo,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.