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 Kazakhstan and from Milan.
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 1966 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bologna and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Columbus 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 John Cale to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 The Pop Group. All the underground hits.
All Terror Squad Feat. Camron tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bootsy's Rubber Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gong,
The Red Krayola,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
The Mighty Diamonds,
The Star Department,
Fela Kuti,
The Motions,
Heaven 17,
Reagan Youth,
Arcadia,
Y Pants,
Dave Gahan,
the Sonics,
Judy Mowatt,
Q and Not U,
Electric Prunes,
Hardrive,
Youth Brigade,
Pantaleimon,
The Toasters,
Thee Headcoats,
Glenn Branca,
Juan Atkins,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Fire Engines,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lightning Bolt,
Rapeman,
Nik Kershaw,
Suburban Knight,
Johnny Clarke,
Jacob Miller,
Cheater Slicks,
The Knickerbockers,
The Velvet Underground,
Idris Muhammad,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
MC5,
Tres Demented,
Visage,
Gang Green,
X-Ray Spex,
Cameo,
Jandek,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Zero Boys,
The Dirtbombs,
Henry Cow,
Donald Byrd,
Depeche Mode,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Real Kids,
The Walker Brothers,
Japan,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Fugs,
Scott Walker,
the Fania All-Stars,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Gichy Dan,
The Offenders,
Metal Thangz,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.