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 East Timor and from Cairo.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tokyo and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 marimba 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 Nico to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mantronix record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Blossom Toes,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Harry Pussy,
Kurtis Blow,
Neil Young,
cv313,
Nick Fraelich,
Nirvana,
The Grass Roots,
Negative Approach,
The Shadows of Knight,
the Swans,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Gun Club,
Hashim,
Scientists,
Scrapy,
Joe Smooth,
The Remains,
Vainqueur,
Oneida,
Pulsallama,
Q and Not U,
Junior Murvin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Slits,
Index,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Los Fastidios,
Dawn Penn,
Half Japanese,
Technova,
The Moleskins,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Young Rascals,
Goldenarms,
X-102,
The Sound,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Gichy Dan,
Robert Wyatt,
Dual Sessions,
The Neon Judgement,
The Techniques,
Altered Images,
Siglo XX,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Misunderstood,
Arab on Radar,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Brass Construction,
Rufus Thomas,
New Order,
Joy Division,
Sight & Sound,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Panda Bear,
John Holt,
Minnie Riperton,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox, Ultravox.
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.