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 Trinidad & Tobago and from Manchester.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet 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 Jacques Brel to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Vainqueur. All the underground hits.
All 8 Eyed Spy tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gian Franco Pienzio 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T.S.O.L.,
Black Moon,
MDC,
Eve St. Jones,
The Slackers,
Rites of Spring,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Nas,
Amon Düül II,
Mars,
John Cale,
Hasil Adkins,
Outsiders,
Gang of Four,
Joensuu 1685,
These Immortal Souls,
Ken Boothe,
Scrapy,
Kenny Larkin,
Inner City,
R.M.O.,
The Knickerbockers,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jacob Miller,
Boogie Down Productions,
Gerry Rafferty,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Invisible,
Aural Exciters,
B.T. Express,
Chris Corsano,
Porter Ricks,
Boz Scaggs,
Circle Jerks,
The Real Kids,
Stiv Bators,
The Walker Brothers,
Robert Görl,
Zapp,
Funky Four + One,
Suicide,
The Slits,
The Electric Prunes,
10cc,
John Foxx,
The Young Rascals,
Sonny Sharrock,
Vainqueur,
Silicon Teens,
Liliput,
Albert Ayler,
Sight & Sound,
The Martian,
Lightning Bolt,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pussy Galore,
The Index,
cv313, cv313, cv313, cv313.
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.