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 Sudan and from London.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
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 1963 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in London and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Kool Moe Dee. All the underground hits.
All Second Layer tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 snare and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jacques Brel record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eve St. Jones,
Ice-T,
Wally Richardson,
Audionom,
The Raincoats,
Pulsallama,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ultimate Spinach,
Monks,
Johnny Clarke,
Derrick Morgan,
B.T. Express,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Grandmaster Flash,
Tommy Roe,
Pierre Henry,
Franke,
Lebanon Hanover,
Todd Terry,
Suburban Knight,
Liliput,
Lungfish,
a-ha,
Tres Demented,
The Move,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Index,
Marine Girls,
Quando Quango,
The Smiths,
Eli Mardock,
X-102,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Dave Gahan,
Pere Ubu,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Marmalade,
The Pop Group,
Excepter,
The Selecter,
Michelle Simonal,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Invisible,
the Swans,
Sixth Finger,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Black Pus,
Camouflage,
The Residents,
Albert Ayler,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Rod Modell,
Skaos,
Tom Boy,
F. McDonald,
The Doobie Brothers,
Crispian St. Peters,
Vladislav Delay,
Bluetip,
Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore, Pussy Galore.
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.