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 Zambia and from Lagos.
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 1966 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manila and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Peanut Butter Conspiracy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Dawn Penn. All the underground hits.
All Stockholm Monsters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eric Copeland 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Sherman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Aloha Tigers,
Toni Rubio,
Kaleidoscope,
Ohio Players,
the Bar-Kays,
Lindisfarne,
Tubeway Army,
Blancmange,
The Dirtbombs,
Cymande,
Desert Stars,
Yazoo,
Pantaleimon,
Sonic Youth,
Urselle,
Sight & Sound,
Echospace,
China Crisis,
Scrapy,
Warsaw,
Mantronix,
PIL,
Gang Starr,
Rakim,
The Slits,
Jawbox,
Sexual Harrassment,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Brass Construction,
Archie Shepp,
Dual Sessions,
Electric Light Orchestra,
The Mojo Men,
Duran Duran,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The Gladiators,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
X-Ray Spex,
Bluetip,
Gang Gang Dance,
Icehouse,
Slick Rick,
John Holt,
Sugar Minott,
Soft Cell,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
The Victims,
Thee Headcoats,
Cal Tjader,
Eden Ahbez,
Glenn Branca,
The Monks,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Shuggie Otis,
Tim Buckley,
Davy DMX,
The Sisters of Mercy,
These Immortal Souls,
Ornette Coleman,
Unwound,
Sex Pistols,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.