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 Equatorial Guinea and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the arpeggiator 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 Nils Olav to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gian Franco Pienzio. All the underground hits.
All Jacques Brel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Carl Craig 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a LL Cool J record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gladiators,
the Association,
Essential Logic,
Bobby Byrd,
Ken Boothe,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Raincoats,
Alton Ellis,
Joensuu 1685,
Rakim,
Fatback Band,
JFA,
the Fania All-Stars,
Cheater Slicks,
The Doobie Brothers,
Lalo Schifrin,
The American Breed,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Angry Samoans,
Television,
Los Fastidios,
Pussy Galore,
UT,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Oneida,
Colin Newman,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nas,
Sarah Menescal,
Can,
Niagra,
Bootsy Collins,
Wally Richardson,
The Evens,
Malaria!,
E-Dancer,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Leaves,
Dark Day,
Brass Construction,
Letta Mbulu,
Gang of Four,
The Alarm Clocks,
Alison Limerick,
Blake Baxter,
Hashim,
Inner City,
The Kinks,
Camouflage,
Johnny Osbourne,
Aaron Thompson,
The Gap Band,
Sun City Girls,
June of 44,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Roxette,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Pantytec,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Brand Nubian,
The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes, The Electric Prunes.
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.