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 United Kingdom and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Brick to the punk 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 Laurel Aitken. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pussy Galore,
Black Bananas,
Ash Ra Tempel,
T.S.O.L.,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Rhythm & Sound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Motions,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Subhumans,
Ituana,
Johnny Osbourne,
T. Rex,
The Standells,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Newcleus,
Ultra Naté,
Kool Moe Dee,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Bang On A Can,
The Dave Clark Five,
Popol Vuh,
Wire,
Rakim,
Michelle Simonal,
Japan,
the Swans,
The Searchers,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Con Funk Shun,
The Busters,
Sun City Girls,
Gil Scott Heron,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Unwound,
Organ,
Mo-Dettes,
Youth Brigade,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Qualms,
Fear,
Shuggie Otis,
Royal Trux,
The Cure,
PIL,
Rufus Thomas,
Mad Mike,
The Shadows of Knight,
Nik Kershaw,
Electric Prunes,
Marmalade,
Lalo Schifrin,
Junior Murvin,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Sparks,
The Gladiators,
Echospace,
Glenn Branca,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.