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 Turkey and from Madrid.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Ponytail to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Hot Snakes record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a X-101 record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Ornette Coleman,
Freddie Wadling,
Tears for Fears,
Inner City,
Brass Construction,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Wasted Youth,
A Certain Ratio,
Interpol,
Babytalk,
Bootsy Collins,
Sugar Minott,
Andrew Hill,
Siglo XX,
U.S. Maple,
Young Marble Giants,
The Durutti Column,
Spandau Ballet,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lyres,
Skaos,
Qualms,
Graham Central Station,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Schoolly D,
Chris & Cosey,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Curtis Mayfield,
Nirvana,
Basic Channel,
Sister Nancy,
Essential Logic,
Big Daddy Kane,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Jandek,
The Last Poets,
The Monks,
Marmalade,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Quadrant,
Severed Heads,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Man Parrish,
Gabor Szabo,
Pulsallama,
Marine Girls,
Anthony Braxton,
The Raincoats,
Harmonia,
48th St. Collective,
Throbbing Gristle,
Grauzone,
Talk Talk,
Kerrie Biddell,
Funky Four + One,
B.T. Express,
Con Funk Shun,
Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids, Jerry's Kids.
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.