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 Cape Verde and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1980.
I was there at the first Cybotron show in Detroit.
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 1969 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Velvet Underground to the dance 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 Au Pairs. All the underground hits.
All Sonny Sharrock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every a-ha 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
F. McDonald,
Lalann,
Derrick May,
Isaac Hayes,
Model 500,
Black Moon,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The United States of America,
Procol Harum,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Minutemen,
Wasted Youth,
Rotary Connection,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Anthony Braxton,
Audionom,
Eric B and Rakim,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
8 Eyed Spy,
Guru Guru,
Amon Düül,
Moebius,
Sugar Minott,
Sister Nancy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Nirvana,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Pussy Galore,
Slick Rick,
Dawn Penn,
Steve Hackett,
Charles Mingus,
Marmalade,
Funkadelic,
Unrelated Segments,
Black Pus,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
New Order,
The Alarm Clocks,
Altered Images,
Spoonie Gee,
Letta Mbulu,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Erasure,
ABBA,
The Shadows of Knight,
Make Up,
Urselle,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Vogues,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Public Image Ltd.,
Nick Fraelich,
Joy Division,
Joyce Sims,
Connie Case,
Brick,
Stetsasonic,
Sandy B,
Marc Almond,
The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers, The Knickerbockers.
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.