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 Kyrgyzstan and from Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Eric Copeland to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Red Krayola. All the underground hits.
All Brothers Johnson tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Livin' Joy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Absolute Body Control,
Spandau Ballet,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Ludus,
Gang Gang Dance,
Bluetip,
the Sonics,
Radio Birdman,
Wolf Eyes,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Sugar Minott,
Johnny Osbourne,
Soft Cell,
Blossom Toes,
Television Personalities,
Swell Maps,
Subhumans,
Metal Thangz,
The Sound,
The Grass Roots,
The Velvet Underground,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Flamin' Groovies,
Eden Ahbez,
Procol Harum,
Average White Band,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Remains,
Agitation Free,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lucky Dragons,
Trumans Water,
Duran Duran,
Mad Mike,
Maleditus Sound,
Eric Dolphy,
Ultravox,
Aural Exciters,
Kevin Saunderson,
Skriet,
A Flock of Seagulls,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Lalann,
Anthony Braxton,
Minutemen,
Popol Vuh,
Chris Corsano,
Tropical Tobacco,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Monochrome Set,
Marcia Griffiths,
Lungfish,
The Blues Magoos,
The Gories,
Jacob Miller,
Half Japanese,
Agent Orange,
Patti Smith,
Peter and Kerry,
Quantec,
The Selecter,
Juan Atkins,
Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot, Fort Wilson Riot.
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.