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 Samoa and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Dorothy Ashby to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bobby Byrd. All the underground hits.
All E-Dancer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Interpol record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 harpsichord and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bauhaus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deadbeat,
Kenny Larkin,
Sam Rivers,
The Wake,
Sugar Minott,
John Coltrane,
Mission of Burma,
X-Ray Spex,
The Five Americans,
Grey Daturas,
Crooked Eye,
Con Funk Shun,
Harpers Bizarre,
Zapp,
The Smiths,
Pussy Galore,
The Cramps,
Underground Resistance,
Eden Ahbez,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Tropical Tobacco,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Scratch Acid,
The Human League,
the Swans,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Dark Day,
the Human League,
Rufus Thomas,
Cymande,
the Fania All-Stars,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Gang Starr,
X-102,
Excepter,
Minor Threat,
Rekid,
Quantec,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
K-Klass,
Tim Buckley,
The Sonics,
Loose Ends,
Audionom,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Dennis Brown,
Skarface,
Robert Wyatt,
Ohio Players,
The Birthday Party,
Silicon Teens,
Crispian St. Peters,
Talk Talk,
Jandek,
Ludus,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Japan,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
UT,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.