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 Tonga and from Hong Kong.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Mexico City.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Magazine to the punk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Mary Jane Girls. All the underground hits.
All Buzzcocks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deepchord record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smiths,
Arcadia,
The J.B.'s,
Josef K,
Black Moon,
The Electric Prunes,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Invisible,
Q and Not U,
The Monks,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Cramps,
Anthony Braxton,
Das Ding,
Symarip,
Archie Shepp,
Marine Girls,
Letta Mbulu,
Gabor Szabo,
Surgeon,
Faust,
David Bowie,
Yazoo,
Sight & Sound,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Judy Mowatt,
Lucky Dragons,
Crispian St. Peters,
Tom Boy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ludus,
The Dave Clark Five,
Shoche,
Johnny Clarke,
The Pretty Things,
Rotary Connection,
The Angels of Light,
Metal Thangz,
Au Pairs,
Stereo Dub,
Echospace,
Animal Collective,
Organ,
Interpol,
Byron Stingily,
Negative Approach,
Inner City,
Easy Going,
Skaos,
Tears for Fears,
Quadrant,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Freddie Wadling,
Rapeman,
Dave Gahan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
June of 44,
Darondo,
Toni Rubio,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.