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 Norway and from Bologna.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school New York 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Moleskins to the rap 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 Interpol. All the underground hits.
All Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Beasts of Bourbon record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Boz Scaggs record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Eden Ahbez,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Flamin' Groovies,
Visage,
Ohio Players,
The Walker Brothers,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Star Department,
Kas Product,
Spandau Ballet,
Popol Vuh,
Laurel Aitken,
Max Romeo,
Jerry's Kids,
Rufus Thomas,
Bang On A Can,
the Bar-Kays,
Cal Tjader,
Anthony Braxton,
Kerrie Biddell,
Lower 48,
Be Bop Deluxe,
8 Eyed Spy,
Au Pairs,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Residents,
B.T. Express,
The Motions,
Young Marble Giants,
Harmonia,
Brass Construction,
Maurizio,
Albert Ayler,
Motorama,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Real Kids,
The Music Machine,
MC5,
Tubeway Army,
The Seeds,
Matthew Halsall,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
H. Thieme,
Animal Collective,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Oneida,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Bobby Byrd,
Fear,
The Vogues,
Roy Ayers,
Soft Machine,
Ultra Naté,
The Gun Club,
Radiopuhelimet,
Fluxion,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Junior Murvin,
Talk Talk,
T.S.O.L.,
Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe, Tommy Roe.
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.