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 Dominican Republic and from Tokyo.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gregory Isaacs to the jazz kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Radiopuhelimet. All the underground hits.
All Scan 7 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mad Mike record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a E-Dancer record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
MDC,
Amon Düül,
Qualms,
Bobby Womack,
The Sound,
Slave,
CMW,
Cheater Slicks,
Pierre Henry,
Magma,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Donny Hathaway,
The Residents,
Glambeats Corp.,
T.S.O.L.,
The Monks,
The Mojo Men,
Eddi Front,
Quantec,
Jerry's Kids,
Todd Terry,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Gap Band,
Jeff Lynne,
Bootsy Collins,
Crispian St. Peters,
Smog,
Marine Girls,
the Germs,
Chrome,
The Beau Brummels,
The Neon Judgement,
Audionom,
Moebius,
Ronnie Foster,
Procol Harum,
Slick Rick,
Yusef Lateef,
The Cowsills,
Black Pus,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pere Ubu,
The Zeros,
The Leaves,
48th St. Collective,
OOIOO,
Kenny Larkin,
D'Angelo,
Black Moon,
Ice-T,
Tropical Tobacco,
Joensuu 1685,
Ohio Players,
Suicide,
Lou Reed,
Ultravox,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Reagan Youth,
Fluxion,
Joe Finger,
Yellowson,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Slackers,
Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented, Tres Demented.
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.