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 Mongolia and from Taipei.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the theremin 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 Outsiders to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 De La Soul & Jungle Brothers. All the underground hits.
All Robert Wyatt tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quantec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rakim record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lucky Dragons,
Subhumans,
Black Pus,
Graham Central Station,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Shadows of Knight,
Avey Tare,
the Bar-Kays,
Ituana,
Pussy Galore,
The Toasters,
Nation of Ulysses,
the Slits,
EPMD,
Goldenarms,
The New Christs,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mr. Review,
Severed Heads,
Kaleidoscope,
Prince Buster,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Fall,
Talk Talk,
Intrusion,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Radio Birdman,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Peter & Gordon,
10cc,
Rhythm & Sound,
The Stooges,
The Detroit Cobras,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
New York Dolls,
Hashim,
Hardrive,
Public Enemy,
The Vogues,
Marc Almond,
Darondo,
Wally Richardson,
Pharoah Sanders,
Howard Jones,
The Gories,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Todd Rundgren,
Accadde A,
The Slits,
cv313,
Angry Samoans,
The Fire Engines,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
KRS-One,
The Cosmic Jokers,
D'Angelo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Joyce Sims,
Gil Scott Heron,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers, The Walker Brothers.
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.