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 Yemen and from Seoul.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 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 Tropical Tobacco to the rock kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Doors. All the underground hits.
All Man Eating Sloth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Public Enemy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Glenn Branca record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
A Flock of Seagulls,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
the Human League,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Saccharine Trust,
These Immortal Souls,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Black Moon,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Sex Pistols,
Fatback Band,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Eden Ahbez,
Lucky Dragons,
Niagra,
Juan Atkins,
Laurel Aitken,
Goldenarms,
Tubeway Army,
Sarah Menescal,
Deakin,
Rod Modell,
Funky Four + One,
Bill Wells,
Sun City Girls,
Aloha Tigers,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Gregory Isaacs,
John Lydon,
The Doobie Brothers,
Donald Byrd,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
F. McDonald,
Jacques Brel,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Eurythmics,
A Certain Ratio,
Television Personalities,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Desert Stars,
Soft Cell,
Silicon Teens,
Black Pus,
Wire,
Chris Corsano,
The Misunderstood,
Reuben Wilson,
kango's stein massive,
Joyce Sims,
Mark Hollis,
Carl Craig,
The Divine Comedy,
Pylon,
The Barracudas,
Little Man,
Bang On A Can,
David Axelrod,
Alice Coltrane,
Thompson Twins,
World's Most,
Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr, Gang Starr.
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.