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 Nepal and from Stockholm.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Mumbai.
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 1970 at the first Onyeabor practice in a loft in Enugu.
I was working on the harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 These Immortal Souls to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Rotary Connection. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bootsy Collins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Electric Light Orchestra record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cybotron,
Ossler,
Accadde A,
Dead Boys,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Wings,
Donald Byrd,
Mantronix,
Marvin Gaye,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Saints,
Deepchord,
Supertramp,
Donny Hathaway,
Grandmaster Flash,
New Age Steppers,
X-101,
a-ha,
T. Rex,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Circle Jerks,
The Misunderstood,
Ten City,
The Walker Brothers,
The Remains,
Skaos,
Johnny Osbourne,
Moss Icon,
Qualms,
Terrestrial Tones,
Bad Manners,
DNA,
Arab on Radar,
Stiv Bators,
Panda Bear,
Todd Rundgren,
The Martian,
The Gap Band,
Q and Not U,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Sam Rivers,
The United States of America,
Moby Grape,
the Fania All-Stars,
Derrick Morgan,
Sister Nancy,
The Zeros,
Eli Mardock,
The Searchers,
Talk Talk,
Mary Jane Girls,
Cameo,
Duran Duran,
Patti Smith,
The Shadows of Knight,
Glambeats Corp.,
Swans,
Dawn Penn,
The Black Dice,
New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls, New York Dolls.
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.