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 India and from Spokane.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sandy B to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Big Daddy Kane. All the underground hits.
All Lungfish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lyres,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Symarip,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Deakin,
Tres Demented,
Youth Brigade,
Radiopuhelimet,
Little Man,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Howard Jones,
The Monochrome Set,
Ultra Naté,
Toni Rubio,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Alison Limerick,
Zapp,
Tomorrow,
Q65,
Ronan,
June Days,
The Busters,
The Index,
Bang On A Can,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Pantaleimon,
Spoonie Gee,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Cheater Slicks,
Dual Sessions,
the Slits,
The Residents,
Andrew Hill,
The Selecter,
Aural Exciters,
a-ha,
Godley & Creme,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Deepchord,
Pylon,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Red Krayola,
Vainqueur,
Laurel Aitken,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Sam Rivers,
Boredoms,
Procol Harum,
The Divine Comedy,
MDC,
Motorama,
Josef K,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
New York Dolls,
Average White Band,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Nik Kershaw,
Rekid,
FM Einheit,
Ponytail,
Gang Starr,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.