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 Fiji and from Stockholm.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 harpsichord 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 Thee Headcoats to the rock 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 Morten Harket. All the underground hits.
All Frankie Knuckles tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wally Richardson 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Unwound,
The Slits,
Delta 5,
Whodini,
Ten City,
PIL,
The Misunderstood,
Newcleus,
Royal Trux,
Rakim,
Heaven 17,
Basic Channel,
Marvin Gaye,
Gichy Dan,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Main Source,
Deakin,
Sugar Minott,
Bob Dylan,
the Soft Cell,
Judy Mowatt,
Mo-Dettes,
DJ Style,
Wally Richardson,
Mandrill,
The Tremeloes,
Pylon,
The Electric Prunes,
The Victims,
CMW,
Jacob Miller,
Donny Hathaway,
Lindisfarne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Johnny Osbourne,
Piero Umiliani,
Lebanon Hanover,
Gastr Del Sol,
Desert Stars,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Davy DMX,
Cal Tjader,
Pulsallama,
Jesper Dahlback,
Stereo Dub,
Glenn Branca,
Bobby Byrd,
Aloha Tigers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flipper,
Procol Harum,
Drexciya,
the Bar-Kays,
Hardrive,
Parry Music,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Barry Ungar,
Blancmange,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Kool Moe Dee,
Kerri Chandler,
Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics, Amazonics.
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.