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 Vanuatu and from Seoul.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Copenhagen 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 snare 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 Louis and Bebe Barron to the techno 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 X-102. All the underground hits.
All Sam Rivers tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 an oboe and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ponytail 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?
Harry Pussy,
Bad Manners,
Y Pants,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Au Pairs,
Cybotron,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Rites of Spring,
Drexciya,
Quantec,
Eden Ahbez,
U.S. Maple,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Kayak,
Eddi Front,
Gang Starr,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Black Bananas,
Nas,
Gang of Four,
The Last Poets,
Metal Thangz,
Crispy Ambulance,
The Seeds,
Brand Nubian,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
DNA,
Television,
The Gories,
Section 25,
Blancmange,
Roger Hodgson,
The Human League,
Qualms,
Todd Rundgren,
Dennis Brown,
Adolescents,
Slave,
Kurtis Blow,
Visage,
Faraquet,
Public Image Ltd.,
Gabor Szabo,
Robert Hood,
Bobby Sherman,
Eurythmics,
The Pretty Things,
Neu!,
Scan 7,
Index,
The Selecter,
Hashim,
The Standells,
Godley & Creme,
Tres Demented,
Jerry Gold Smith,
These Immortal Souls,
Marine Girls,
The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals, The Young Rascals.
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.