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 Norway and from Houston.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Sixth Finger to the dance kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Last Poets. All the underground hits.
All Nirvana tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fall record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arthur Verocai,
Loose Ends,
Scott Walker,
T.S.O.L.,
Man Eating Sloth,
Hardrive,
F. McDonald,
the Germs,
Easy Going,
The American Breed,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Harpers Bizarre,
Mr. Review,
The Residents,
Tom Boy,
Jacques Brel,
The Busters,
Al Stewart,
Aaron Thompson,
Joyce Sims,
Jesper Dahlback,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Radio Birdman,
The Martian,
Dead Boys,
Jandek,
The Cure,
The Doobie Brothers,
Iggy Pop,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Byron Stingily,
Grey Daturas,
Jeff Mills,
Rod Modell,
David Bowie,
Eric B and Rakim,
Charles Mingus,
Schoolly D,
Donald Byrd,
Adolescents,
Lou Christie,
Supertramp,
Sister Nancy,
Guru Guru,
Can,
Nation of Ulysses,
Swans,
Popol Vuh,
Dennis Brown,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Gabor Szabo,
Electric Prunes,
ABBA,
The Kinks,
Second Layer,
Wasted Youth,
Mary Jane Girls,
Robert Hood,
Deadbeat,
Echospace,
Johnny Clarke,
James White and The Blacks,
Mandrill,
Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen, Leonard Cohen.
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.