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 Netherlands 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 1968 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Sonny Sharrock to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Icehouse. All the underground hits.
All June of 44 tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sonny Sharrock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Visage,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Sällskapet,
Boredoms,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rakim,
Hoover,
Wasted Youth,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Harry Pussy,
Radio Birdman,
Faust,
Kerrie Biddell,
Black Flag,
Al Stewart,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Public Image Ltd.,
Dorothy Ashby,
Ice-T,
David Axelrod,
Letta Mbulu,
Index,
Hashim,
T. Rex,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Albert Ayler,
Junior Murvin,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Severed Heads,
Tommy Roe,
Mission of Burma,
Judy Mowatt,
Reuben Wilson,
Andrew Hill,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Star Department,
Half Japanese,
Joyce Sims,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Vogues,
Khruangbin,
E-Dancer,
The Searchers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Althea and Donna,
Alphaville,
Bronski Beat,
Simply Red,
Bill Wells,
One Last Wish,
Yaz,
Mark Hollis,
The Five Americans,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Leonard Cohen,
Popol Vuh,
Amazonics,
Delta 5,
the Swans,
Jacob Miller,
The Dirtbombs,
Scion, Scion, Scion, Scion.
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.