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 Bosnia Herzegovina and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe 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 Sexual Harrassment to the punk 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 Moss Icon. All the underground hits.
All Icehouse tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jacques Brel 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kurtis Blow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Smog,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Accadde A,
Icehouse,
Yellowson,
Albert Ayler,
the Slits,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Golliwogs,
Swans,
Cymande,
the Germs,
Delta 5,
Spandau Ballet,
The Buckinghams,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Raincoats,
Wasted Youth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Max Romeo,
Barrington Levy,
Pagans,
The Fall,
Maurizio,
Ken Boothe,
Mandrill,
Al Stewart,
Hoover,
Sonic Youth,
Depeche Mode,
Negative Approach,
Fluxion,
Essential Logic,
Bobby Byrd,
The Misunderstood,
Lungfish,
Anthony Braxton,
Visage,
Scrapy,
DJ Sneak,
Can,
The Toasters,
The Real Kids,
Radiohead,
Junior Murvin,
Eddi Front,
Audionom,
Chris Corsano,
Television,
Bush Tetras,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Donald Byrd,
Gabor Szabo,
Stiv Bators,
Mary Jane Girls,
Ohio Players,
Kerrie Biddell,
Hot Snakes,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
David McCallum,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Kas Product,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.