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 Comoros and from Manila.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Magazine to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Charles Mingus. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Trumans Water record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 linndrum and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lakeside record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Dorothy Ashby,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Barbara Tucker,
Eve St. Jones,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Victims,
Crime,
Audionom,
KRS-One,
Robert Görl,
Gastr Del Sol,
Junior Murvin,
Cameo,
Warsaw,
Bill Wells,
Brick,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Arcadia,
Soul Sonic Force,
Michelle Simonal,
U.S. Maple,
The New Christs,
Severed Heads,
Dawn Penn,
Black Bananas,
Bad Manners,
the Bar-Kays,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Gories,
Can,
Jawbox,
Smog,
Monolake,
David McCallum,
Circle Jerks,
Delta 5,
The Fuzztones,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Intrusion,
Brass Construction,
Parry Music,
Godley & Creme,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
DJ Style,
Ultra Naté,
Quantec,
Qualms,
Ken Boothe,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
E-Dancer,
D'Angelo,
Soft Cell,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Radiopuhelimet,
Das Ding,
Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe, Be Bop Deluxe.
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.