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 Ghana and from Seoul.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 The Mighty Diamonds to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Malaria!. All the underground hits.
All The Walker Brothers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Shuggie Otis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Evens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Dirtbombs,
Darondo,
Archie Shepp,
The Kinks,
The Names,
Boredoms,
The Gories,
Bill Near,
These Immortal Souls,
Interpol,
the Swans,
The Toasters,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Camouflage,
R.M.O.,
Sugar Minott,
The Busters,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Masters at Work,
Simply Red,
Fatback Band,
H. Thieme,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Techniques,
Soft Cell,
a-ha,
Scratch Acid,
Gang of Four,
Talk Talk,
Duran Duran,
Avey Tare,
David Bowie,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Crash Course in Science,
Subhumans,
Mo-Dettes,
Derrick May,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sam Rivers,
Harpers Bizarre,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Mr. Review,
Soft Machine,
The Angels of Light,
Sexual Harrassment,
Magazine,
Q and Not U,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sun Ra,
Bad Manners,
Gang Gang Dance,
Althea and Donna,
The Move,
Camberwell Now,
The Victims,
Glambeats Corp.,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Blackbyrds,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gerry Rafferty,
Stetsasonic,
The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department, The Star Department.
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.