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 Honduras and from Tehran.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 oboe sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Sound to the dance 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 The Stooges. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mantronix 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Spoonie Gee record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe 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?
Mo-Dettes,
Skarface,
Sixth Finger,
Robert Wyatt,
Monolake,
Peter & Gordon,
La Düsseldorf,
Thee Headcoats,
Bang On A Can,
The Dead C,
The Walker Brothers,
Brothers Johnson,
Wolf Eyes,
Eric Dolphy,
Nirvana,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kaleidoscope,
The Fugs,
Quantec,
Sparks,
The Blues Magoos,
The Remains,
Rod Modell,
Funkadelic,
Visage,
Accadde A,
Surgeon,
Magazine,
Smog,
Marshall Jefferson,
Glambeats Corp.,
Depeche Mode,
Underground Resistance,
Crooked Eye,
Malaria!,
Fat Boys,
Loose Ends,
Throbbing Gristle,
Groovy Waters,
Agent Orange,
Main Source,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gichy Dan,
Fela Kuti,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Raincoats,
X-102,
Pharoah Sanders,
Suburban Knight,
Peter and Kerry,
Inner City,
Donny Hathaway,
Amon Düül II,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Sheep,
Moby Grape,
Dead Boys,
Jeff Mills,
the Normal,
the Slits,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Average White Band,
Organ, Organ, Organ, Organ.
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.