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 Dominican Republic and from Tehran.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Hong Kong.
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 1962 at the first Guess Who practice in a loft in Winnipeg.
I was working on the güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Susan Cadogan to the funk 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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Oppenheimer Analysis tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
LL Cool J,
Crooked Eye,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Minutemen,
The Kinks,
Siglo XX,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Albert Ayler,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
New York Dolls,
Deadbeat,
Schoolly D,
Faraquet,
Grauzone,
Maurizio,
Average White Band,
Saccharine Trust,
Skaos,
Warsaw,
Fluxion,
Japan,
London Community Gospel Choir,
T. Rex,
Cybotron,
Bill Near,
Suburban Knight,
The Neon Judgement,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
K-Klass,
The Saints,
Nas,
Masters at Work,
Bush Tetras,
Visage,
Byron Stingily,
Accadde A,
The Beau Brummels,
ABBA,
Fad Gadget,
Janne Schatter,
Erasure,
Gang Gang Dance,
Crispian St. Peters,
The Buckinghams,
Michelle Simonal,
Kenny Larkin,
Newcleus,
Vladislav Delay,
The Real Kids,
Negative Approach,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Lungfish,
The Pop Group,
Monolake,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eric Dolphy,
This Heat,
Blake Baxter,
The Invisible,
Mark Hollis,
Can, Can, Can, Can.
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.