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 Accra.
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 1969 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Jacques Brel. All the underground hits.
All Pharoah Sanders tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brand Nubian 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a H. Thieme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Busters,
The Five Americans,
Public Image Ltd.,
The Flesh Eaters,
Los Fastidios,
Tubeway Army,
The Tremeloes,
Todd Rundgren,
Second Layer,
Fad Gadget,
Brick,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Skaos,
Parry Music,
Tommy Roe,
Little Man,
Interpol,
10cc,
The Saints,
Robert Wyatt,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Kaleidoscope,
Rekid,
Eli Mardock,
Hashim,
K-Klass,
Marine Girls,
the Normal,
Sandy B,
Bush Tetras,
The Birthday Party,
Camouflage,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Red Krayola,
Radiohead,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Simply Red,
Aloha Tigers,
The Invisible,
Saccharine Trust,
AZ,
Donny Hathaway,
Suburban Knight,
The Dirtbombs,
Easy Going,
Blake Baxter,
Lakeside,
These Immortal Souls,
Trumans Water,
Pylon,
R.M.O.,
Depeche Mode,
Schoolly D,
E-Dancer,
Echospace,
Visage,
Malaria!,
Con Funk Shun,
Marcia Griffiths,
Black Flag,
The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column, The Durutti Column.
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.