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 Kiribati and from Delhi.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Harry Pussy to the techno kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Lonnie Liston Smith. All the underground hits.
All Liliput tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Music Machine record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Standells record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Holt,
Al Stewart,
Youth Brigade,
B.T. Express,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Negative Approach,
U.S. Maple,
Lou Reed,
The Martian,
Sixth Finger,
Guru Guru,
The Cramps,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Grey Daturas,
Gerry Rafferty,
KRS-One,
Alton Ellis,
John Lydon,
The Durutti Column,
Ronan,
Parry Music,
Brand Nubian,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fortunes,
Brass Construction,
F. McDonald,
Spandau Ballet,
Second Layer,
Skriet,
Deakin,
Lightning Bolt,
Radio Birdman,
Terrestrial Tones,
Unrelated Segments,
The United States of America,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
The Gories,
Sandy B,
Erasure,
Rod Modell,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gong,
Boogie Down Productions,
Grauzone,
Fatback Band,
David Axelrod,
T. Rex,
Juan Atkins,
Lyres,
Bobby Sherman,
The New Christs,
Porter Ricks,
Cluster,
Danielle Patucci,
Rakim,
Agent Orange,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bad Manners,
Crispian St. Peters,
Los Fastidios,
Animal Collective,
Eurythmics,
Television, Television, Television, Television.
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.