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 Cuba and from Bremen.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school London 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 rhodes 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 The Mummies to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Magazine. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lafayette Afro Rock Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
DJ Sneak,
Lyres,
Lindisfarne,
Intrusion,
Magazine,
Vladislav Delay,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Kurtis Blow,
Fear,
Anakelly,
Lou Reed,
Deadbeat,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
New York Dolls,
Tears for Fears,
Roy Ayers,
The United States of America,
Don Cherry,
The Selecter,
The Saints,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Radiopuhelimet,
Yusef Lateef,
Tom Boy,
Jeru the Damaja,
Mandrill,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Black Sheep,
Stockholm Monsters,
Terry Callier,
Bobby Byrd,
Agitation Free,
The Wake,
Jawbox,
X-Ray Spex,
Bill Wells,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bob Dylan,
Bad Manners,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Robert Görl,
Moss Icon,
Eric Dolphy,
Michelle Simonal,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Five Americans,
Gastr Del Sol,
Moebius,
Tubeway Army,
The Buckinghams,
Joey Negro,
The Monochrome Set,
Cal Tjader,
The Invisible,
Excepter,
Patti Smith,
Joyce Sims,
The Monks,
The Red Krayola,
Cecil Taylor,
the Swans, the Swans, the Swans, the Swans.
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.