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 Woodstock.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the theremin 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 Tropical Tobacco to the grunge 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 Robert Görl. All the underground hits.
All Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Strawberry Alarm Clock 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Piero Umiliani record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wally Richardson,
Skriet,
PIL,
L. Decosne,
Popol Vuh,
T.S.O.L.,
Curtis Mayfield,
Reuben Wilson,
The Index,
Kerri Chandler,
E-Dancer,
Chrome,
China Crisis,
Guru Guru,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Khruangbin,
The Standells,
Agent Orange,
Ohio Players,
The Grass Roots,
Accadde A,
the Fania All-Stars,
Arthur Verocai,
Bootsy Collins,
Nils Olav,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Grauzone,
Eve St. Jones,
Wire,
Kenny Larkin,
Barbara Tucker,
Main Source,
One Last Wish,
Ituana,
Funkadelic,
The Barracudas,
Duran Duran,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Soul II Soul,
Inner City,
The Motions,
Crash Course in Science,
Grandmaster Flash,
U.S. Maple,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Lee Hazlewood,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crooked Eye,
Motorama,
the Germs,
Excepter,
Lower 48,
In Retrospect,
Lyres,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Dirtbombs,
Radio Birdman,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Count Five,
Wings,
Bobby Sherman,
Soft Cell,
Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson, Marshall Jefferson.
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.