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 Tajikistan and from Portland.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Moebius to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog. All the underground hits.
All Sarah Menescal tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kaleidoscope 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ornette Coleman record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bauhaus,
Arcadia,
Eric Copeland,
the Bar-Kays,
Roger Hodgson,
Brick,
Kerri Chandler,
Drive Like Jehu,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Livin' Joy,
Nils Olav,
The Beau Brummels,
Radio Birdman,
Drexciya,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Easy Going,
DJ Style,
Wire,
Trumans Water,
June Days,
Mandrill,
Lakeside,
Toni Rubio,
Marmalade,
John Lydon,
The Modern Lovers,
Lungfish,
Gastr Del Sol,
Pere Ubu,
The Knickerbockers,
The J.B.'s,
The Raincoats,
The Velvet Underground,
H. Thieme,
Slave,
Technova,
Youth Brigade,
Oneida,
Heaven 17,
Delon & Dalcan,
Delta 5,
Malaria!,
Radiohead,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Kaleidoscope,
The Human League,
Crispy Ambulance,
Brand Nubian,
Motorama,
Rotary Connection,
Quadrant,
New York Dolls,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Blancmange,
Quando Quango,
Bush Tetras,
Bad Manners,
The Techniques,
Agent Orange,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.