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 Costa Rica and from Houston.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 rhodes 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 Nas to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Tres Demented. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Soft Cell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
AZ,
Hashim,
H. Thieme,
Glenn Branca,
Cluster,
John Foxx,
Isaac Hayes,
Graham Central Station,
Dave Gahan,
Pulsallama,
Darondo,
Blancmange,
Gil Scott Heron,
Nils Olav,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Icehouse,
Janne Schatter,
Ludus,
The Grass Roots,
The Leaves,
Joe Smooth,
Derrick Morgan,
Grauzone,
Rod Modell,
Prince Buster,
Nick Fraelich,
This Heat,
The Cure,
Pagans,
Smog,
Siglo XX,
Masters at Work,
cv313,
Ten City,
Gong,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Index,
The Cramps,
The Dead C,
Scrapy,
Gregory Isaacs,
Dawn Penn,
Fugazi,
Bush Tetras,
Rosa Yemen,
Niagra,
Minnie Riperton,
OOIOO,
Joy Division,
Joe Finger,
Thee Headcoats,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Underground Resistance,
Black Pus,
Stiv Bators,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Radio Birdman,
Oneida,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Dirtbombs,
Whodini,
Desert Stars,
Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma, Mission of Burma.
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.