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 Tunisia and from Edmonton.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 a-ha to the rap kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 This Heat. All the underground hits.
All Jeff Mills tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric B and Rakim record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wings,
Man Parrish,
Letta Mbulu,
Matthew Halsall,
Pantaleimon,
the Normal,
Altered Images,
Excepter,
Bootsy Collins,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Von Mondo,
Los Fastidios,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
the Human League,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Matthew Bourne,
Minor Threat,
Aural Exciters,
The Kinks,
Ludus,
The Fugs,
L. Decosne,
Alton Ellis,
Jerry's Kids,
La Düsseldorf,
Blancmange,
Babytalk,
Motorama,
Alphaville,
Angry Samoans,
Interpol,
Marmalade,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Lakeside,
Popol Vuh,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bauhaus,
The Golliwogs,
Masters at Work,
John Holt,
The Moleskins,
Arab on Radar,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Au Pairs,
Cymande,
New Age Steppers,
Country Teasers,
Soft Cell,
Joensuu 1685,
The Stooges,
Depeche Mode,
The Flesh Eaters,
Jacques Brel,
Bush Tetras,
Ten City,
Graham Central Station,
Glenn Branca,
Howard Jones,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
cv313,
The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola, The Red Krayola.
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.