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 Maldives and from Salvador.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 güiro 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 The Skatalites 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 Bobbi Humphrey. All the underground hits.
All Dark Day tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Stockholm Monsters record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Pantytec record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lower 48,
MDC,
John Foxx,
The Red Krayola,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Martian,
Girls At Our Best!,
Iggy Pop,
Kerrie Biddell,
Robert Görl,
Altered Images,
Black Bananas,
Boredoms,
Yellowson,
Absolute Body Control,
Infiniti,
The J.B.'s,
Masters at Work,
Deakin,
Pet Shop Boys,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Main Source,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Motions,
Alphaville,
Joensuu 1685,
The Raincoats,
the Sonics,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Avey Tare,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Young Marble Giants,
The Gories,
Frankie Knuckles,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Shuggie Otis,
Ice-T,
Ultimate Spinach,
Amazonics,
Gil Scott Heron,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Nirvana,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Pussy Galore,
Ronan,
Andrew Hill,
Television,
The Fire Engines,
Carl Craig,
The Last Poets,
Sex Pistols,
Icehouse,
Juan Atkins,
Ornette Coleman,
Sunsets and Hearts,
The Moody Blues,
Harmonia,
Bad Manners,
a-ha,
B.T. Express,
The Kinks,
Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra, Sun Ra.
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.