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 Benin and from Lyon.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Tres Demented to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Wolf Eyes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Drexciya record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Kinks,
Crime,
Reagan Youth,
Masters at Work,
Max Romeo,
MC5,
Lou Christie,
Jacob Miller,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Faust,
Crash Course in Science,
Kayak,
X-101,
The Red Krayola,
The Neon Judgement,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jeru the Damaja,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Ohio Players,
Sonny Sharrock,
R.M.O.,
The Seeds,
Barry Ungar,
Heaven 17,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
JFA,
Procol Harum,
The Stooges,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
LL Cool J,
Traffic Nightmare,
AZ,
Archie Shepp,
Robert Görl,
New Order,
Sparks,
X-Ray Spex,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Amazonics,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Young Rascals,
New Age Steppers,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Suicide,
Babytalk,
Erasure,
Jeff Lynne,
Harry Pussy,
Trumans Water,
Adolescents,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Amon Düül II,
Kenny Larkin,
the Sonics,
Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders, Pharoah Sanders.
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.