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 Jordan and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Harry Pussy to the grime 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 Yaz. All the underground hits.
All The Pretty Things tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Khruangbin record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Letta Mbulu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Detroit Cobras,
Brick,
Derrick Morgan,
Ronan,
The Electric Prunes,
Jeff Lynne,
The Music Machine,
Flamin' Groovies,
Tubeway Army,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pulsallama,
Maurizio,
the Germs,
Lightning Bolt,
Morten Harket,
The Move,
Pet Shop Boys,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Ludus,
Moby Grape,
PIL,
the Swans,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Minny Pops,
The Martian,
Kaleidoscope,
Althea and Donna,
Royal Trux,
A Certain Ratio,
Radio Birdman,
The Remains,
The Blackbyrds,
The Seeds,
The Fortunes,
Roy Ayers,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Panda Bear,
Radiopuhelimet,
Anakelly,
A Flock of Seagulls,
X-Ray Spex,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Mighty Diamonds,
F. McDonald,
New Age Steppers,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Last Poets,
Buzzcocks,
Altered Images,
Loose Ends,
Aural Exciters,
Simply Red,
Bootsy Collins,
Saccharine Trust,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Alice Coltrane,
Intrusion,
Quando Quango,
The Divine Comedy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley, Tim Buckley.
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.