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 Somalia 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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Neon Judgement to the punk 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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Mighty Diamonds 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Max Romeo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Doobie Brothers,
The Fugs,
Radiopuhelimet,
Eli Mardock,
Bronski Beat,
Curtis Mayfield,
Donald Byrd,
Second Layer,
Derrick Morgan,
L. Decosne,
Bush Tetras,
MDC,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Can,
The Litter,
Hot Snakes,
Danielle Patucci,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Gun Club,
The Last Poets,
Davy DMX,
Thee Headcoats,
Minny Pops,
Michelle Simonal,
Alton Ellis,
Absolute Body Control,
Sarah Menescal,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Underground Resistance,
The Mummies,
the Human League,
Chrome,
The Cowsills,
Harry Pussy,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Moebius,
Roy Ayers,
Fugazi,
Dual Sessions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
8 Eyed Spy,
The Fuzztones,
The Walker Brothers,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Jimmy McGriff,
Minutemen,
Eurythmics,
The New Christs,
Babytalk,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Slave,
Saccharine Trust,
the Slits,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Deakin,
Duran Duran,
DJ Sneak,
Gang of Four,
Stiv Bators,
Rod Modell,
Yusef Lateef,
The Neon Judgement,
Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth, Man Eating Sloth.
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.