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 Nepal 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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Nile Rodgers 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 Porter Ricks to the jazz kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Fugazi. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Hutcherson record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Sight & Sound,
Heaven 17,
The Doors,
Public Enemy,
The Last Poets,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Al Stewart,
The Raincoats,
Minutemen,
Kas Product,
Infiniti,
Tropical Tobacco,
Fad Gadget,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Aural Exciters,
The Gladiators,
Alison Limerick,
E-Dancer,
Arthur Verocai,
Glambeats Corp.,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Duran Duran,
Pet Shop Boys,
Panda Bear,
Dark Day,
Tim Buckley,
The Modern Lovers,
Fatback Band,
Lucky Dragons,
Severed Heads,
Josef K,
Flamin' Groovies,
The Gun Club,
Mission of Burma,
James White and The Blacks,
Thee Headcoats,
Tom Boy,
Das Ding,
Flipper,
Sällskapet,
Saccharine Trust,
The Tremeloes,
Tommy Roe,
Faust,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Busters,
Blancmange,
Nick Fraelich,
The Index,
the Slits,
B.T. Express,
Jacob Miller,
Simply Red,
Godley & Creme,
Youth Brigade,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Nirvana,
OOIOO,
Easy Going,
LL Cool J,
Lightning Bolt,
Jeff Lynne,
Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja, Jeru the Damaja.
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.