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 Guatemala 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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 D'Angelo to the crunk 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 Pulsallama. All the underground hits.
All Schoolly D tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Louis and Bebe Barron 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Robert Wyatt record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Josef K,
Fat Boys,
The Cramps,
Prince Buster,
The Monks,
Gang Green,
Nick Fraelich,
Susan Cadogan,
H. Thieme,
The Zeros,
Tomorrow,
Ultravox,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Man Parrish,
The Seeds,
The Slits,
Quadrant,
The Smiths,
Hoover,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Marvin Gaye,
Eli Mardock,
Fluxion,
Janne Schatter,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Popol Vuh,
Scientists,
Angry Samoans,
D'Angelo,
Sun Ra,
Monks,
Pagans,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Fuzztones,
The Shadows of Knight,
Half Japanese,
Public Image Ltd.,
Arab on Radar,
Rakim,
Stiv Bators,
Max Romeo,
Easy Going,
The Skatalites,
Throbbing Gristle,
Boz Scaggs,
Sarah Menescal,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bang On A Can,
Marine Girls,
Japan,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Agitation Free,
JFA,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Red Krayola,
Gil Scott Heron,
F. McDonald,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Jacob Miller,
Cabaret Voltaire,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Cowsills,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.