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 Portugal 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 1963 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
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 Crispian St. Peters to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Skaos. All the underground hits.
All The Trojans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Brass Construction 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Womack record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kerrie Biddell,
The Walker Brothers,
Unrelated Segments,
Idris Muhammad,
Joey Negro,
The Flesh Eaters,
T.S.O.L.,
June Days,
Prince Buster,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Michelle Simonal,
June of 44,
The Offenders,
Altered Images,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Monks,
Hasil Adkins,
Charles Mingus,
Stetsasonic,
Sugar Minott,
Cecil Taylor,
Clear Light,
Soul II Soul,
Radiohead,
the Human League,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Cluster,
Frankie Knuckles,
Yellowson,
Liliput,
Johnny Clarke,
Panda Bear,
Parry Music,
The Toasters,
Lower 48,
K-Klass,
The Busters,
R.M.O.,
Make Up,
Oneida,
Porter Ricks,
John Cale,
Fugazi,
Y Pants,
Ludus,
Fela Kuti,
Mars,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Index,
The Pop Group,
Traffic Nightmare,
Animal Collective,
Blake Baxter,
Henry Cow,
Scott Walker,
Niagra,
Barry Ungar,
Blossom Toes,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Names, The Names, The Names, The Names.
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.