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 Poland and from Halifax.
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 1961 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 harpsichord 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 Brothers Johnson to the rock kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Radiohead. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lalann record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 chamberlin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Mad Mike record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fugs,
Tres Demented,
Nas,
The Grass Roots,
Main Source,
Todd Rundgren,
Chrome,
Harry Pussy,
The Barracudas,
Alice Coltrane,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Rufus Thomas,
Jeff Mills,
Schoolly D,
Skarface,
Vainqueur,
Pussy Galore,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dennis Brown,
Stetsasonic,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
F. McDonald,
The Angels of Light,
Dark Day,
Scan 7,
Excepter,
The Velvet Underground,
Jeru the Damaja,
Big Daddy Kane,
Gichy Dan,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Pop Group,
The Raincoats,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Trumans Water,
Joe Smooth,
Infiniti,
Unwound,
The Mojo Men,
Hasil Adkins,
The Five Americans,
Cheater Slicks,
Tears for Fears,
Nico,
Donald Byrd,
AZ,
Boogie Down Productions,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Sexual Harrassment,
Boredoms,
Youth Brigade,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Negative Approach,
Wasted Youth,
Maurizio,
Sight & Sound,
Quando Quango,
Lalann,
Urselle,
June Days,
Ossler,
Franke,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282, Thinking Fellers Union Local 282.
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.