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 Brunei and from Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 1976 at the first Soft Boys practice in a loft in Cambridge.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Normal. All the underground hits.
All Trumans Water tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bluetip record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 mellotron and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Little Man,
Yazoo,
The Monks,
Gong,
The Stooges,
DJ Style,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Gregory Isaacs,
T. Rex,
The Gap Band,
Wings,
Don Cherry,
Desert Stars,
Marmalade,
Lyres,
Graham Central Station,
Suburban Knight,
Marshall Jefferson,
EPMD,
Hasil Adkins,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Harmonia,
Glambeats Corp.,
Icehouse,
The Cowsills,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Half Japanese,
Barbara Tucker,
Black Moon,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hardrive,
Interpol,
Chris & Cosey,
Eddi Front,
Clear Light,
The Fire Engines,
K-Klass,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Beau Brummels,
Johnny Osbourne,
Scratch Acid,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Neil Young,
The New Christs,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Frankie Knuckles,
10cc,
The Grass Roots,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Massinfluence,
Mars,
Roxette,
Soft Cell,
Skriet,
Pere Ubu,
Connie Case,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Archie Shepp,
Eric B and Rakim,
Bootsy Collins,
Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman, Rapeman.
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.