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 Angola and from Cairo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Buzzcocks to the crunk 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 Nik Kershaw. All the underground hits.
All Surgeon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joe Smooth record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rod Modell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Cale,
Matthew Bourne,
Al Stewart,
Avey Tare,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Infiniti,
Bluetip,
the Swans,
Quadrant,
K-Klass,
Massinfluence,
The Young Rascals,
Fat Boys,
Jacques Brel,
Bill Wells,
Minutemen,
Country Teasers,
Bad Manners,
Anthony Braxton,
Ultra Naté,
Mark Hollis,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Minny Pops,
Zapp,
Excepter,
Byron Stingily,
Kerri Chandler,
Electric Prunes,
The Searchers,
The Victims,
Gerry Rafferty,
48th St. Collective,
Brick,
Brass Construction,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fatback Band,
Sonic Youth,
The Grass Roots,
Ornette Coleman,
Ronan,
Porter Ricks,
Bobby Byrd,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Sonics,
Liliput,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Can,
Bush Tetras,
Vladislav Delay,
Yaz,
Camouflage,
Mo-Dettes,
Radio Birdman,
Lyres,
The Blackbyrds,
Godley & Creme,
Traffic Nightmare,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Pussy Galore,
Dennis Brown,
Patti Smith,
Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick, Alison Limerick.
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.