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 Tuvalu and from Mumbai.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Drexciya to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Banda Bassotti. All the underground hits.
All Joyce Sims tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Gun Club 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Sheep record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
OOIOO,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Fela Kuti,
Harry Pussy,
Nik Kershaw,
T. Rex,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Star Department,
Barrington Levy,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Birthday Party,
Rekid,
Gichy Dan,
David Axelrod,
Donald Byrd,
Soul Sonic Force,
The Fugs,
Bill Wells,
Can,
Fear,
the Association,
Mary Jane Girls,
Marine Girls,
Lindisfarne,
Arcadia,
Ponytail,
Procol Harum,
Adolescents,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Sound,
The Smoke,
Half Japanese,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Matthew Halsall,
Intrusion,
June Days,
Ronnie Foster,
Trumans Water,
Negative Approach,
The Kinks,
Rotary Connection,
Lou Christie,
Swans,
Scan 7,
Black Moon,
Fad Gadget,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Oblivians,
Barry Ungar,
Pole,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Index,
Jimmy McGriff,
Piero Umiliani,
Boz Scaggs,
Loose Ends,
Fat Boys,
Radiopuhelimet,
Marmalade,
Arthur Verocai,
The Fire Engines,
Popol Vuh,
Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding, Das Ding.
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.