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 Venezuela and from Halifax.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the rhodes 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 The Fugs to the funk 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 The Fortunes. All the underground hits.
All Moebius tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Swans 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a 48th St. Collective record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Blancmange,
Jeff Mills,
Cymande,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Monochrome Set,
Mo-Dettes,
The Young Rascals,
Von Mondo,
DNA,
Gerry Rafferty,
Traffic Nightmare,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jesper Dahlback,
Sun City Girls,
Sandy B,
Bizarre Inc.,
Glenn Branca,
the Bar-Kays,
Camberwell Now,
Harry Pussy,
The Sonics,
The Monks,
John Holt,
Barclay James Harvest,
Letta Mbulu,
In Retrospect,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Essential Logic,
Outsiders,
Kaleidoscope,
Loose Ends,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Saints,
Agent Orange,
The Names,
Aloha Tigers,
Pagans,
Barbara Tucker,
The Dirtbombs,
The Seeds,
Nas,
Y Pants,
Scratch Acid,
Japan,
The Standells,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The New Christs,
Popol Vuh,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Sound,
Supertramp,
Section 25,
Sarah Menescal,
Godley & Creme,
Wings,
Sun Ra,
Interpol,
One Last Wish,
Janne Schatter,
The Litter,
Gang of Four,
Massinfluence,
Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood, Lee Hazlewood.
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.