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 Nicaragua and from Taipei.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Massinfluence to the jazz 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 Black Sheep. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Detroit Cobras record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
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 Manfred Mann's Earth Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Skriet,
Anthony Braxton,
Royal Trux,
Ten City,
Hashim,
Terrestrial Tones,
Agitation Free,
Mantronix,
Jawbox,
EPMD,
Eve St. Jones,
The American Breed,
Alton Ellis,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Yusef Lateef,
One Last Wish,
Reagan Youth,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jeru the Damaja,
Pantytec,
DNA,
The Misunderstood,
Nirvana,
Pierre Henry,
The Stooges,
ABBA,
Schoolly D,
Marine Girls,
New York Dolls,
The Index,
Monks,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pagans,
The Doors,
Young Marble Giants,
The Music Machine,
Gang of Four,
New Age Steppers,
Bootsy Collins,
The Golliwogs,
Second Layer,
the Normal,
Sister Nancy,
Gang Green,
Warsaw,
Bill Near,
The Blackbyrds,
Drive Like Jehu,
Easy Going,
World's Most,
Mission of Burma,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Chris & Cosey,
Altered Images,
Pet Shop Boys,
Iggy Pop,
Scrapy,
Connie Case,
Marvin Gaye,
Warren Ellis,
Lightning Bolt,
Clear Light,
Junior Murvin,
The Evens, The Evens, The Evens, The Evens.
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.