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 Estonia and from Manchester.
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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 The Pop Group to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Smiths. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 mellotron and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slackers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Mad Mike,
The Cure,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Idris Muhammad,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Boz Scaggs,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Residents,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Rod Modell,
Roger Hodgson,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Excepter,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Johnny Clarke,
Metal Thangz,
The Cowsills,
The Music Machine,
Goldenarms,
Motorama,
The Star Department,
Prince Buster,
The Zeros,
The Dead C,
Mandrill,
Wolf Eyes,
Fela Kuti,
The Skatalites,
T. Rex,
Howard Jones,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Gladiators,
Joensuu 1685,
Sight & Sound,
Zero Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Jeru the Damaja,
Slave,
Freddie Wadling,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Wings,
Anakelly,
Swans,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kevin Saunderson,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Scrapy,
Stiv Bators,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Heaven 17,
Delta 5,
Whodini,
Wasted Youth,
Nas,
Dawn Penn,
Kaleidoscope,
Grey Daturas,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fugs,
PIL, PIL, PIL, PIL.
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.