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 Mali and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Beijing and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 oboe 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 U.S. Maple to the disco 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Rapeman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minny Pops record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Strawberry Alarm Clock record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Donald Byrd,
PIL,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Soul II Soul,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Mr. Review,
Junior Murvin,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
New Age Steppers,
Scratch Acid,
The Gap Band,
Deadbeat,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Beau Brummels,
Sight & Sound,
Inner City,
Wings,
Roger Hodgson,
Popol Vuh,
the Slits,
Byron Stingily,
Throbbing Gristle,
Suburban Knight,
Index,
Moss Icon,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sound Behaviour,
Joe Smooth,
Unwound,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Saints,
Icehouse,
Crime,
Y Pants,
Funkadelic,
The Doors,
Supertramp,
Fear,
Lee Hazlewood,
the Normal,
The Sonics,
Reuben Wilson,
Man Eating Sloth,
Cal Tjader,
The Sound,
Darondo,
Prince Buster,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
The Dirtbombs,
Bobby Sherman,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Spandau Ballet,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bob Dylan,
Juan Atkins,
Cameo,
B.T. Express,
The Names,
Minutemen,
Rosa Yemen,
Althea and Donna,
Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum, Procol Harum.
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.