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 Korea South and from Houston.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare 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 The Searchers 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 Michelle Simonal. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Count Five record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fortunes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mary Jane Girls,
Eve St. Jones,
Audionom,
Grey Daturas,
Tubeway Army,
Radio Birdman,
Jawbox,
Country Teasers,
Lindisfarne,
Nik Kershaw,
CMW,
Wasted Youth,
Ultimate Spinach,
Kayak,
Rakim,
Echospace,
Buzzcocks,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tropical Tobacco,
Scion,
The Shadows of Knight,
Young Marble Giants,
Swell Maps,
The Slits,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Goldenarms,
Terrestrial Tones,
Pussy Galore,
Metal Thangz,
Black Bananas,
Bobby Sherman,
Mars,
Hardrive,
Kerrie Biddell,
Newcleus,
Bob Dylan,
Stetsasonic,
Bang On A Can,
Stiv Bators,
Scrapy,
The Mummies,
Ornette Coleman,
Tom Boy,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Dennis Brown,
Connie Case,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
F. McDonald,
Scott Walker,
Bobby Womack,
The Martian,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pere Ubu,
Essential Logic,
Heaven 17,
Dual Sessions,
The Mojo Men,
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.