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 Dominican Republic and from Philadelphia.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 guitar 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 Jandek to the rock kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Happenings. All the underground hits.
All Bush Tetras tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kas Product 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Albert Ayler record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
OOIOO,
Throbbing Gristle,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nation of Ulysses,
Unrelated Segments,
Cheater Slicks,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Nas,
The Raincoats,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Bob Dylan,
Scion,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Hoover,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
UT,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
8 Eyed Spy,
Radiohead,
Pet Shop Boys,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Pussy Galore,
Tubeway Army,
Sister Nancy,
Lee Hazlewood,
Tres Demented,
Dawn Penn,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sun Ra,
Quando Quango,
Joey Negro,
Cecil Taylor,
Technova,
Traffic Nightmare,
Wolf Eyes,
The Slits,
The Moody Blues,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Barracudas,
Janne Schatter,
David Axelrod,
Scan 7,
Wally Richardson,
Bauhaus,
Suburban Knight,
Fugazi,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Rapeman,
The United States of America,
The Gun Club,
Stetsasonic,
Visage,
Eric Dolphy,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Soul II Soul,
Essential Logic,
The Last Poets,
Mantronix,
The Tremeloes,
Max Romeo,
Arab on Radar,
Wire, Wire, Wire, Wire.
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.