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 Belgium and from Bologna.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 Chic practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Todd Rundgren to the rap 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Leonard Cohen tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Throbbing Gristle record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Searchers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Lee Hazlewood,
The Shadows of Knight,
Bobby Sherman,
Black Moon,
The Pretty Things,
Soulsonic Force,
Deepchord,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Henry Cow,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Yusef Lateef,
The Invisible,
Bang On A Can,
Ice-T,
Dual Sessions,
Marshall Jefferson,
Wally Richardson,
Simply Red,
Grandmaster Flash,
Kurtis Blow,
Stetsasonic,
Alphaville,
Jerry's Kids,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Cure,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Mummies,
Nils Olav,
Gang Starr,
Television Personalities,
Sex Pistols,
Desert Stars,
Eddi Front,
Ultra Naté,
The Fire Engines,
Boogie Down Productions,
New Age Steppers,
Sam Rivers,
Aloha Tigers,
The Last Poets,
Barrington Levy,
Crispy Ambulance,
Junior Murvin,
The Motions,
Colin Newman,
John Cale,
Maleditus Sound,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Agitation Free,
Danielle Patucci,
Scientists,
Young Marble Giants,
John Lydon,
OOIOO,
Faraquet,
Joe Smooth,
The Music Machine,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Stiv Bators,
Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic, Selector Dub Narcotic.
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.