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 Madagascar and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Bowie show in Bromley.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Pierre Henry to the dance kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 ABBA. All the underground hits.
All Skriet tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Jerry's Kids,
Chrome,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Mummies,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Flipper,
Minutemen,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grey Daturas,
The Last Poets,
The Black Dice,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Negative Approach,
Whodini,
Lungfish,
Monolake,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
The Sound,
Neil Young,
the Association,
Y Pants,
Radiopuhelimet,
Dorothy Ashby,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Ten City,
Slick Rick,
The Mighty Diamonds,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
the Slits,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Velvet Underground,
Bob Dylan,
Boogie Down Productions,
Schoolly D,
The Electric Prunes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Brass Construction,
Cecil Taylor,
Hasil Adkins,
Morten Harket,
Kevin Saunderson,
Crispian St. Peters,
Mark Hollis,
Newcleus,
Unwound,
Icehouse,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Fat Boys,
Eddi Front,
Theoretical Girls,
The Pop Group,
Funkadelic,
the Fania All-Stars,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Blackbyrds,
Skaos,
Donald Byrd,
Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano, Chris Corsano.
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.