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 Turkmenistan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 arpeggiator 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 Sun Ra Arkestra to the rap kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Traffic Nightmare. All the underground hits.
All Art Ensemble Of Chicago tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lower 48 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Human League record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Black Pus,
Surgeon,
Anthony Braxton,
the Soft Cell,
Gregory Isaacs,
Blake Baxter,
Mission of Burma,
The Wake,
Howard Jones,
Simply Red,
The Modern Lovers,
Iggy Pop,
Aural Exciters,
The New Christs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Matthew Halsall,
Rakim,
The Walker Brothers,
Lightning Bolt,
Lower 48,
Brand Nubian,
Johnny Osbourne,
Guru Guru,
Steve Hackett,
Vainqueur,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Laurel Aitken,
Khruangbin,
LL Cool J,
Robert Hood,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Spandau Ballet,
The Red Krayola,
June of 44,
Warsaw,
The Cramps,
The Alarm Clocks,
Blancmange,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Wasted Youth,
Sam Rivers,
The Seeds,
La Düsseldorf,
Soft Machine,
Donald Byrd,
Danielle Patucci,
Sixth Finger,
Kerri Chandler,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Black Bananas,
Neil Young,
Lakeside,
Joensuu 1685,
Kenny Larkin,
The Invisible,
KRS-One,
The Fall,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.