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 Somalia and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb 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 Arab on Radar to the disco kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Drive Like Jehu. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Womack tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Severed Heads record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Alarm Clocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lee Hazlewood,
the Bar-Kays,
Reuben Wilson,
The Pretty Things,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lou Reed,
Wasted Youth,
Pantaleimon,
John Holt,
Yellowson,
Quadrant,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sugar Minott,
Flash Fearless,
Swell Maps,
Mandrill,
48th St. Collective,
Pantytec,
Harry Pussy,
Niagra,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Victims,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Peter and Kerry,
Scientists,
The Grass Roots,
Tubeway Army,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Dorothy Ashby,
Vainqueur,
Gang Green,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Fad Gadget,
Flipper,
Kaleidoscope,
Con Funk Shun,
Sun Ra,
Freddie Wadling,
Fatback Band,
Index,
Piero Umiliani,
Brick,
Tom Boy,
R.M.O.,
the Soft Cell,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Black Flag,
Cheater Slicks,
Blancmange,
Jeru the Damaja,
Roxette,
Nik Kershaw,
PIL,
Easy Going,
Boz Scaggs,
Schoolly D,
Masters at Work,
CMW,
The Misunderstood,
Bill Wells,
Mantronix,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.