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 Tuvalu and from Seoul.
But I was there.
I was there in 1967.
I was there at the first Rodriguez show in Detroit.
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 Taipei and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 marimba 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 John Coltrane to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Swans. All the underground hits.
All Marvin Gaye tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Altered Images record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Theoretical Girls,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
D'Angelo,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Oneida,
The Smiths,
Cluster,
Wings,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Maurizio,
Alice Coltrane,
Girls At Our Best!,
Absolute Body Control,
Faust,
Eli Mardock,
Agitation Free,
Charles Mingus,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Stetsasonic,
The Kinks,
Moebius,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Grauzone,
Roger Hodgson,
AZ,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Stiv Bators,
Donald Byrd,
Morten Harket,
Essential Logic,
Steve Hackett,
Joe Finger,
The Alarm Clocks,
Duran Duran,
Sun City Girls,
The Fall,
Dorothy Ashby,
Slave,
Jeff Mills,
Mr. Review,
The New Christs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
MC5,
The Pop Group,
The Real Kids,
Derrick Morgan,
Whodini,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Shoche,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Cramps,
The Move,
Aswad,
Blancmange,
Supertramp,
Reuben Wilson,
Lindisfarne,
Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow.
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.