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 Laos and from Hong Kong.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 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 Bronski Beat to the grime kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Lafayette Afro Rock Band. All the underground hits.
All Arthur Verocai tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Slick Rick record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rufus Thomas record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Darondo,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Soulsonic Force,
Drexciya,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Lalann,
Tom Boy,
Rosa Yemen,
Blossom Toes,
Royal Trux,
Crime,
B.T. Express,
John Coltrane,
Grey Daturas,
David McCallum,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Parry Music,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pantaleimon,
The Move,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Ice-T,
The Star Department,
Sun City Girls,
the Human League,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
China Crisis,
Gang of Four,
ABC,
Flash Fearless,
Pharoah Sanders,
Cheater Slicks,
Little Man,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Television,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Arthur Verocai,
KRS-One,
Rekid,
Archie Shepp,
The Red Krayola,
Harmonia,
Brothers Johnson,
Donald Byrd,
Wire,
Aswad,
Michelle Simonal,
Bobby Sherman,
The Sonics,
Stereo Dub,
Brick,
Interpol,
Chris Corsano,
Letta Mbulu,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Mojo Men,
Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin, Kenny Larkin.
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.