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 Qatar and from London.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Adolescents to the grunge 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 Louis and Bebe Barron. All the underground hits.
All Ice-T tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Henry Cow record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
DJ Sneak,
PIL,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Lalo Schifrin,
Organ,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Last Poets,
Flamin' Groovies,
Hasil Adkins,
Bobby Sherman,
T.S.O.L.,
Country Teasers,
Arcadia,
Eric Dolphy,
CMW,
Mandrill,
Excepter,
Johnny Clarke,
Cheater Slicks,
Thompson Twins,
Los Fastidios,
Eric Copeland,
The Slits,
The Doobie Brothers,
Ossler,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
The Human League,
Flipper,
the Bar-Kays,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Symarip,
Gang Starr,
Boz Scaggs,
Dark Day,
Pantaleimon,
The Black Dice,
Kayak,
DJ Style,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Busters,
Rosa Yemen,
the Association,
Sandy B,
Shuggie Otis,
Buzzcocks,
Slick Rick,
Jawbox,
Blossom Toes,
Danielle Patucci,
Rekid,
Fugazi,
The Happenings,
Reagan Youth,
Rapeman,
Ultimate Spinach,
8 Eyed Spy,
Jerry Gold Smith,
The Smiths,
Section 25,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.