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 United States and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Jacques Brel to the disco 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 The Real Kids. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roger Hodgson 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Dual Sessions record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare 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 Sound,
Juan Atkins,
Neil Young,
The Barracudas,
Index,
Jeru the Damaja,
Yellowson,
The Cure,
Nico,
Arcadia,
Delon & Dalcan,
Tropical Tobacco,
Interpol,
The Martian,
Funky Four + One,
Letta Mbulu,
The Vogues,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Symarip,
The Durutti Column,
Mr. Review,
Lindisfarne,
The Star Department,
Quadrant,
The Zeros,
Hot Snakes,
The Gladiators,
Soul II Soul,
The Names,
Yusef Lateef,
Gichy Dan,
Pierre Henry,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Brand Nubian,
Gerry Rafferty,
John Coltrane,
The Young Rascals,
Bootsy Collins,
Lower 48,
Pere Ubu,
Gregory Isaacs,
Unrelated Segments,
Donny Hathaway,
Curtis Mayfield,
Das Ding,
Public Image Ltd.,
Procol Harum,
Fat Boys,
The American Breed,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eric B and Rakim,
Subhumans,
Josef K,
The Index,
Minor Threat,
Soft Cell,
Roy Ayers,
Circle Jerks,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Sarah Menescal,
Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms, Boredoms.
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.