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 Estonia and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1971 at the first Selda practice in a loft in Istanbul.
I was working on the marimba 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 Whodini to the grime 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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All The Fugs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every It's A Beautiful Day record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T. Rex record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rekid,
The Grass Roots,
Nico,
The Victims,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Lungfish,
Intrusion,
Jimmy McGriff,
cv313,
The Kinks,
UT,
Radiopuhelimet,
Outsiders,
The Fuzztones,
Camouflage,
Scan 7,
the Bar-Kays,
Jacques Brel,
Delta 5,
Bobby Womack,
The Red Krayola,
Erykah Badu,
Black Sheep,
Joy Division,
L. Decosne,
Livin' Joy,
Gabor Szabo,
Joe Smooth,
Black Pus,
Swans,
Bizarre Inc.,
Thompson Twins,
Soul Sonic Force,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Smog,
Thee Headcoats,
The J.B.'s,
John Foxx,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Throbbing Gristle,
Althea and Donna,
The Seeds,
Monolake,
Traffic Nightmare,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Terrestrial Tones,
Silicon Teens,
Cheater Slicks,
Amon Düül,
Eric Dolphy,
Cymande,
Jacob Miller,
Darondo,
Sexual Harrassment,
Slave,
Robert Hood,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Barry Ungar,
Monks, Monks, Monks, Monks.
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.