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 Lesotho and from Copenhagen.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Manila.
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 güiro 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 Lonnie Liston Smith to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Cecil Taylor. All the underground hits.
All Bauhaus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Clear Light record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Juan Atkins,
Tomorrow,
Drexciya,
Rapeman,
The Dead C,
Marine Girls,
Joensuu 1685,
Radiopuhelimet,
Banda Bassotti,
Alphaville,
Chris Corsano,
The Kinks,
Nils Olav,
Ten City,
Basic Channel,
Sugar Minott,
Talk Talk,
John Cale,
48th St. Collective,
Kevin Saunderson,
Pantytec,
Lower 48,
Rod Modell,
Dark Day,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Bill Near,
Pulsallama,
Soft Machine,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Standells,
Dave Gahan,
Vainqueur,
Sixth Finger,
Moby Grape,
Danielle Patucci,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Dawn Penn,
Joe Finger,
Grauzone,
Marshall Jefferson,
Scrapy,
China Crisis,
Amon Düül,
Skarface,
Parry Music,
The Electric Prunes,
Mantronix,
Moss Icon,
Lungfish,
Infiniti,
Minutemen,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Velvet Underground,
Gregory Isaacs,
The American Breed,
Prince Buster,
Oblivians,
Jeff Mills,
The Selecter,
Sandy B,
Inner City,
Simply Red,
The Pretty Things,
Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid, Scratch Acid.
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.