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 Bhutan and from Tokyo.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Mars to the crunk 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 Altered Images. All the underground hits.
All Don Cherry tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Germs record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a L. Decosne record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The United States of America,
Carl Craig,
Brass Construction,
Yaz,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
The Fugs,
Jesper Dahlback,
Grey Daturas,
The Motions,
Ken Boothe,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Siglo XX,
Jeff Lynne,
Underground Resistance,
Wally Richardson,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Matthew Halsall,
Soul Sonic Force,
Flipper,
Gang Starr,
Scrapy,
The Knickerbockers,
Wings,
Parry Music,
Tears for Fears,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Fela Kuti,
Niagra,
Slick Rick,
The Five Americans,
The Mojo Men,
Robert Hood,
Hot Snakes,
Can,
Quando Quango,
Stetsasonic,
Soft Cell,
Brand Nubian,
Ituana,
This Heat,
Sound Behaviour,
Tommy Roe,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Suicide,
Infiniti,
Essential Logic,
The Fortunes,
Sandy B,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Royal Trux,
Johnny Clarke,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Faraquet,
Johnny Osbourne,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Liliput,
The Gories,
Roy Ayers,
The Velvet Underground,
Dorothy Ashby,
B.T. Express,
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.