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 Cyprus and from Manchester.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 arpeggiator 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 Crooked Eye to the rap 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 Spoonie Gee. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a La Düsseldorf record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Black Dice,
A Certain Ratio,
The Offenders,
Robert Wyatt,
Josef K,
LL Cool J,
Arcadia,
Girls At Our Best!,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mars,
New Age Steppers,
Sight & Sound,
Sonic Youth,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Joe Finger,
Vainqueur,
Suicide,
Pussy Galore,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The Vogues,
B.T. Express,
Icehouse,
Delta 5,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Harpers Bizarre,
Nick Fraelich,
FM Einheit,
DJ Style,
Aswad,
Anakelly,
Surgeon,
Smog,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Raincoats,
Slave,
Stereo Dub,
Harmonia,
The Human League,
Parry Music,
Rekid,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scratch Acid,
Oblivians,
Freddie Wadling,
Avey Tare,
Faraquet,
Lou Reed,
Mandrill,
Aaron Thompson,
Procol Harum,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Grass Roots,
Public Image Ltd.,
Masters at Work,
Babytalk,
Bluetip,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Amazonics,
David Axelrod,
Iggy Pop,
Organ,
Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler, Kerri Chandler.
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.