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 Guinea-Bissau and from Glasgow.
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 1963 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pere Ubu to the techno 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 Letta Mbulu. All the underground hits.
All Flipper tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mr. Review record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 marimba and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Electric Prunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
KRS-One,
Isaac Hayes,
John Coltrane,
The Residents,
X-102,
The Doors,
The Trojans,
Mad Mike,
Barbara Tucker,
Yaz,
Godley & Creme,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Franke,
Outsiders,
Traffic Nightmare,
Eve St. Jones,
Hashim,
Blake Baxter,
Whodini,
The Cramps,
Suicide,
Moss Icon,
Curtis Mayfield,
Porter Ricks,
The Detroit Cobras,
Skaos,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Wake,
Dennis Brown,
Thee Headcoats,
The Durutti Column,
David Bowie,
Sällskapet,
The Neon Judgement,
Alton Ellis,
Infiniti,
Sound Behaviour,
Monks,
The New Christs,
The Martian,
Zapp,
Fela Kuti,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Barrington Levy,
a-ha,
Basic Channel,
Johnny Osbourne,
Japan,
Joey Negro,
Rosa Yemen,
The Misunderstood,
Yellowson,
Wasted Youth,
The Gap Band,
Guru Guru,
DNA,
Harpers Bizarre,
Jandek,
Metal Thangz,
Stockholm Monsters,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron, Cybotron.
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.