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 Iran and from Mumbai.
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 1968 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Paris and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Underground Resistance to the disco kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Drexciya tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Neil Young record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Darondo record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
UT,
Shoche,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Oblivians,
Jesper Dahlback,
Flamin' Groovies,
Cluster,
Nirvana,
Severed Heads,
Metal Thangz,
Popol Vuh,
Alice Coltrane,
Bob Dylan,
Soulsonic Force,
Scrapy,
Stetsasonic,
Khruangbin,
Television Personalities,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Animal Collective,
Johnny Osbourne,
Godley & Creme,
Pole,
Loose Ends,
the Germs,
Kas Product,
Dorothy Ashby,
The Slackers,
The J.B.'s,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Siglo XX,
Fatback Band,
Barbara Tucker,
Gregory Isaacs,
Man Eating Sloth,
Alphaville,
Byron Stingily,
The Searchers,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
John Lydon,
Brand Nubian,
Shuggie Otis,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Hot Snakes,
Thee Headcoats,
Mandrill,
Franke,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Procol Harum,
Moebius,
Accadde A,
Spoonie Gee,
Desert Stars,
Janne Schatter,
Massinfluence,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Tears for Fears,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Echospace,
Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel, Basic Channel.
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.