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 Belize and from Manila.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Sao Paulo.
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 1983 at the first Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the guitar 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 Derrick May to the grime 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Moby Grape tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Warsaw record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Walker Brothers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Archie Shepp,
Graham Central Station,
Ossler,
Lalo Schifrin,
the Normal,
Mad Mike,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Excepter,
Derrick May,
Ultravox,
Surgeon,
Josef K,
Thee Headcoats,
The Litter,
Traffic Nightmare,
Pagans,
DJ Style,
a-ha,
Hardrive,
Absolute Body Control,
Electric Prunes,
Arcadia,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Wolf Eyes,
Ice-T,
Hashim,
Blancmange,
Crispian St. Peters,
Pussy Galore,
Fatback Band,
Tom Boy,
Eric Dolphy,
Gang Gang Dance,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Zapp,
Buzzcocks,
Heaven 17,
T. Rex,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Icehouse,
Laurel Aitken,
Sarah Menescal,
Colin Newman,
the Fania All-Stars,
Spandau Ballet,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Jacques Brel,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Liliput,
The Misunderstood,
Japan,
Quadrant,
Erasure,
The Fuzztones,
Joensuu 1685,
Pere Ubu,
Angry Samoans,
D'Angelo,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Section 25,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things, The Pretty Things.
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.