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 Portugal and from Beijing.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gang of Four to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Eli Mardock tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Robert Wyatt record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Byron Stingily,
Buzzcocks,
Pussy Galore,
Theoretical Girls,
Mr. Review,
Sam Rivers,
Charles Mingus,
Pagans,
Scrapy,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Monochrome Set,
Yusef Lateef,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Beau Brummels,
Crispian St. Peters,
Rakim,
Franke,
Skriet,
Symarip,
Porter Ricks,
Yazoo,
The Fire Engines,
Stetsasonic,
48th St. Collective,
Deadbeat,
Kaleidoscope,
The Offenders,
Dual Sessions,
Ultimate Spinach,
Vladislav Delay,
Beasts of Bourbon,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Fugazi,
Sparks,
The Gun Club,
Scott Walker,
Monolake,
Au Pairs,
Dead Boys,
Isaac Hayes,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kool Moe Dee,
Bill Wells,
Skarface,
Yaz,
Erasure,
Faraquet,
Roxy Music,
The Motions,
Sandy B,
Rufus Thomas,
Fluxion,
Roger Hodgson,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Tears for Fears,
Chris Corsano,
Icehouse,
Barry Ungar,
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.