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 Algeria and from Portland.
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 1965 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Cairo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the snare 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 The Fire Engines to the techno kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All DJ Sneak tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every 48th St. Collective 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 '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 Sad Lovers and Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Amazonics,
The Durutti Column,
Theoretical Girls,
Skaos,
Hot Snakes,
Robert Görl,
Idris Muhammad,
Newcleus,
Crooked Eye,
Bill Wells,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Funkadelic,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Nas,
The Gories,
Johnny Osbourne,
Cameo,
Television Personalities,
Kevin Saunderson,
Soft Cell,
Public Enemy,
Country Teasers,
Frankie Knuckles,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Boz Scaggs,
Pierre Henry,
Wally Richardson,
Royal Trux,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Boogie Down Productions,
DJ Style,
Aural Exciters,
Moebius,
Cluster,
Absolute Body Control,
the Bar-Kays,
Deepchord,
The Martian,
Guru Guru,
Anakelly,
Chris & Cosey,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The American Breed,
Pet Shop Boys,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Warsaw,
Procol Harum,
KRS-One,
Harpers Bizarre,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Animal Collective,
Letta Mbulu,
F. McDonald,
Unwound,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Leonard Cohen,
10cc,
Bobby Womack,
Pussy Galore,
Nick Fraelich,
Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents, Adolescents.
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.