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 Panama and from Philadelphia.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1964 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 H. Thieme to the punk kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 The Dead C. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every cv313 record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 rhodes and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sly & The Family Stone record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Supertramp,
Fela Kuti,
Tim Buckley,
Bang On A Can,
The Happenings,
John Holt,
Blake Baxter,
Circle Jerks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Roxy Music,
The Stooges,
Roy Ayers,
Moss Icon,
Cymande,
Marcia Griffiths,
DNA,
Aloha Tigers,
The Seeds,
Stetsasonic,
The Selecter,
Arab on Radar,
Amon Düül II,
Black Flag,
Ralphi Rosario,
Boogie Down Productions,
Index,
The United States of America,
Bill Wells,
Andrew Hill,
The Remains,
Little Man,
Deadbeat,
Half Japanese,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mo-Dettes,
Intrusion,
Tom Boy,
The Smiths,
Jeff Mills,
The Pop Group,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Cluster,
Nation of Ulysses,
The Knickerbockers,
The Buckinghams,
Fad Gadget,
Charles Mingus,
Easy Going,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Gang Gang Dance,
Pylon,
Yaz,
The Standells,
Ten City,
The Angels of Light,
Groovy Waters,
Adolescents,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Fugs,
Crispy Ambulance,
Blossom Toes,
Laurel Aitken,
Erasure,
Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear, Panda Bear.
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.