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 Egypt and from Spokane.
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 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 synthesizer 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 Rosa Yemen to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All The Dirtbombs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Big Daddy Kane record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge 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 a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gong record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Jacques Brel,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Sixth Finger,
The Slackers,
Rufus Thomas,
The Evens,
The Tremeloes,
Vladislav Delay,
Ituana,
Piero Umiliani,
Lebanon Hanover,
Idris Muhammad,
Dawn Penn,
Eric Dolphy,
Lungfish,
Loose Ends,
Spoonie Gee,
the Fania All-Stars,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Sarah Menescal,
Funky Four + One,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ultravox,
DJ Sneak,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Archie Shepp,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Das Ding,
Crash Course in Science,
Soulsonic Force,
A Certain Ratio,
Bauhaus,
Scan 7,
Chris Corsano,
The Dave Clark Five,
Warren Ellis,
Gang Starr,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Gang Green,
Intrusion,
Andrew Hill,
Janne Schatter,
The Leaves,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
The Monochrome Set,
Half Japanese,
The Electric Prunes,
Rapeman,
Kevin Saunderson,
Yaz,
U.S. Maple,
Pussy Galore,
Joensuu 1685,
Sight & Sound,
The Divine Comedy,
Byron Stingily,
The Durutti Column,
The Angels of Light,
The Searchers,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Fat Boys,
Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse, Icehouse.
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.