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 Germany and from Columbus.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Teenage Jesus and the Jerks to the dance 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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Erykah Badu tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dorothy Ashby record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 sitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Janne Schatter record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blossom Toes,
The Blues Magoos,
Motorama,
Moebius,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Last Poets,
The Buckinghams,
Slave,
Wolf Eyes,
Minnie Riperton,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Mandrill,
L. Decosne,
Black Flag,
The Dead C,
Reagan Youth,
Visage,
Freddie Wadling,
Simply Red,
Danielle Patucci,
Con Funk Shun,
Roy Ayers,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Jawbox,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Masters at Work,
Jeru the Damaja,
Black Sheep,
Cecil Taylor,
Chris & Cosey,
Lee Hazlewood,
Black Pus,
10cc,
The Raincoats,
Q and Not U,
Amon Düül,
Japan,
The Neon Judgement,
Idris Muhammad,
Bauhaus,
Cameo,
Model 500,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Pagans,
MDC,
Los Fastidios,
Mr. Review,
Kayak,
Lyres,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Godley & Creme,
Livin' Joy,
Quando Quango,
Henry Cow,
La Düsseldorf,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Blackbyrds,
The Gladiators,
8 Eyed Spy,
DJ Style,
Absolute Body Control,
Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy, Sister Nancy.
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.