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 Panama 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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the linndrum 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 Boredoms to the crunk 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 Lakeside. All the underground hits.
All Crispian St. Peters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kerrie Biddell record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 an arpeggiator and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Harry Pussy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Intrusion,
Ultra Naté,
The Names,
Electric Prunes,
Cheater Slicks,
The Five Americans,
Carl Craig,
Black Bananas,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
X-101,
R.M.O.,
Graham Central Station,
Nick Fraelich,
Tommy Roe,
Faraquet,
Ituana,
The Associates,
Sandy B,
The Smiths,
Public Image Ltd.,
Pere Ubu,
Funky Four + One,
the Sonics,
Young Marble Giants,
Joy Division,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Ken Boothe,
Nation of Ulysses,
Model 500,
The Victims,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Pretty Things,
L. Decosne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Surgeon,
Negative Approach,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Echospace,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
The Doobie Brothers,
Glenn Branca,
Minor Threat,
Eric B and Rakim,
Radiopuhelimet,
Bang On A Can,
Erasure,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Iggy Pop,
Lightning Bolt,
Gastr Del Sol,
Sugar Minott,
Second Layer,
Porter Ricks,
The Happenings,
Marc Almond,
Alice Coltrane,
The Buckinghams,
Accadde A,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.