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 Venezuela 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 1966 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Lindisfarne to the crunk 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 Liaisons Dangereuses. All the underground hits.
All The Beau Brummels tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Maurizio record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Saints record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Symarip,
Black Sheep,
Patti Smith,
The Pop Group,
Spoonie Gee,
The Victims,
Gastr Del Sol,
The Mummies,
EPMD,
Funkadelic,
Gang of Four,
Andrew Hill,
Qualms,
In Retrospect,
The Sound,
The Moody Blues,
Drive Like Jehu,
Jacob Miller,
Camouflage,
Erykah Badu,
Das Ding,
The Music Machine,
Susan Cadogan,
Bill Near,
Marine Girls,
Mary Jane Girls,
Brothers Johnson,
One Last Wish,
Joey Negro,
Marcia Griffiths,
Graham Central Station,
La Düsseldorf,
Los Fastidios,
Angry Samoans,
Suburban Knight,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Names,
David McCallum,
Vainqueur,
This Heat,
Swell Maps,
Pere Ubu,
The United States of America,
Drexciya,
Moss Icon,
Mo-Dettes,
Deepchord,
Avey Tare,
Cybotron,
DJ Sneak,
Idris Muhammad,
Trumans Water,
The Velvet Underground,
Iggy Pop,
The Seeds,
Radiohead,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Lebanon Hanover,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Barrington Levy,
Joe Finger,
Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen, Rosa Yemen.
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.