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 Angola and from Madrid.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Michael McDonald 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 Supertramp 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 Goldenarms. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terry Callier record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Idris Muhammad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes 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 Moody Blues,
E-Dancer,
The Mojo Men,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Happenings,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Scion,
Ken Boothe,
Camouflage,
Lakeside,
Sexual Harrassment,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sister Nancy,
Pagans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Modern Lovers,
T.S.O.L.,
John Holt,
Toni Rubio,
Monolake,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Hashim,
Johnny Osbourne,
Brand Nubian,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Sugar Minott,
Henry Cow,
Al Stewart,
Simply Red,
Deadbeat,
Peter & Gordon,
Lungfish,
Sonic Youth,
The Saints,
The Shadows of Knight,
Erasure,
Television,
Fugazi,
Lee Hazlewood,
Laurel Aitken,
The Angels of Light,
Jacob Miller,
Maleditus Sound,
D'Angelo,
Suicide,
the Germs,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Theoretical Girls,
Alison Limerick,
Monks,
Roger Hodgson,
Pylon,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Grey Daturas,
Bobby Hutcherson,
One Last Wish,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jacques Brel,
Skarface,
Procol Harum,
The Fortunes,
Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims, Joyce Sims.
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.