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 Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Bootsy Collins to the punk 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 Minor Threat. All the underground hits.
All Blossom Toes 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 a marimba and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barry Ungar record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Von Mondo,
The Black Dice,
Piero Umiliani,
PIL,
Kenny Larkin,
Black Pus,
The Angels of Light,
D'Angelo,
the Swans,
Hasil Adkins,
Grauzone,
The Busters,
Delon & Dalcan,
Matthew Halsall,
Deakin,
Fatback Band,
Isaac Hayes,
The Red Krayola,
Eurythmics,
Brick,
Ultravox,
Deadbeat,
Davy DMX,
Jandek,
Excepter,
Rites of Spring,
Lightning Bolt,
Camberwell Now,
Sex Pistols,
The Mojo Men,
Tropical Tobacco,
Radiohead,
The Divine Comedy,
Kerrie Biddell,
The Smoke,
Franke,
Darondo,
Pagans,
Ten City,
Bootsy Collins,
Sister Nancy,
Joey Negro,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Faust,
Lyres,
Sound Behaviour,
Crash Course in Science,
The Pretty Things,
Das Ding,
Eve St. Jones,
L. Decosne,
Rekid,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The American Breed,
The Music Machine,
Henry Cow,
Minnie Riperton,
Ralphi Rosario,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.