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 Australia and from Bremen.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Johannesburg.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the snare 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Mars. All the underground hits.
All The Selecter tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minor Threat 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Techniques record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Tomorrow,
The Gun Club,
Ronan,
Gichy Dan,
Gabor Szabo,
Soft Machine,
Sight & Sound,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Monks,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Juan Atkins,
The Moody Blues,
Archie Shepp,
Nik Kershaw,
Franke,
Man Eating Sloth,
Minor Threat,
Danielle Patucci,
Moss Icon,
Ohio Players,
Dawn Penn,
Sun Ra,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Electric Prunes,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Grey Daturas,
Lee Hazlewood,
Neil Young,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Anthony Braxton,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Idris Muhammad,
Ponytail,
Flipper,
Technova,
Slick Rick,
Jacob Miller,
Motorama,
Stockholm Monsters,
Eurythmics,
Talk Talk,
Ultra Naté,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Essential Logic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Human League,
Althea and Donna,
Gang of Four,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Brass Construction,
Cal Tjader,
B.T. Express,
Man Parrish,
Alison Limerick,
The Neon Judgement,
Robert Hood,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Freddie Wadling,
The American Breed,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Warsaw,
Zapp,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.