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 Haiti and from Toronto.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 Michael McDonald 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 Bobby Byrd to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Desert Stars. All the underground hits.
All Be Bop Deluxe tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Vainqueur record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fugs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Count Five,
Eric Copeland,
H. Thieme,
Symarip,
Funky Four + One,
The Residents,
Amazonics,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Dark Day,
UT,
Monolake,
Ultimate Spinach,
Agitation Free,
Supertramp,
The Tremeloes,
Dorothy Ashby,
Harpers Bizarre,
Derrick Morgan,
The Toasters,
Minutemen,
Subhumans,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Kurtis Blow,
Moebius,
The Black Dice,
The Zeros,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Aloha Tigers,
Sexual Harrassment,
Japan,
Judy Mowatt,
John Holt,
the Soft Cell,
Scientists,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
James White and The Blacks,
John Lydon,
Pantaleimon,
Godley & Creme,
Fela Kuti,
Avey Tare,
Chrome,
Bobby Byrd,
The Alarm Clocks,
Thee Headcoats,
Simply Red,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Can,
Arcadia,
Roger Hodgson,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Boz Scaggs,
Shuggie Otis,
Swell Maps,
Intrusion,
Joy Division,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Blackbyrds,
Wire,
Deakin,
Reagan Youth,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.