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 United States and from Spokane.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Hong Kong.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Rites of Spring to the crunk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Blake Baxter. All the underground hits.
All Crispy Ambulance tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every John Lydon 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 chamberlin and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Tremeloes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
The J.B.'s,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Avey Tare,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Slick Rick,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
cv313,
Q65,
A Flock of Seagulls,
A Certain Ratio,
Zapp,
Junior Murvin,
Terry Callier,
Procol Harum,
Godley & Creme,
The Leaves,
Rapeman,
Cymande,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Red Krayola,
The Seeds,
Josef K,
Gerry Rafferty,
China Crisis,
The New Christs,
Yazoo,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Detroit Cobras,
Con Funk Shun,
Ronnie Foster,
Ralphi Rosario,
Brick,
Robert Wyatt,
Archie Shepp,
Grauzone,
Deadbeat,
Funkadelic,
Supertramp,
Juan Atkins,
Hoover,
Throbbing Gristle,
Bluetip,
Pole,
The Gories,
The Shadows of Knight,
Malaria!,
Chris Corsano,
Lower 48,
K-Klass,
Sarah Menescal,
The Trojans,
The Fire Engines,
John Foxx,
Royal Trux,
Pussy Galore,
Robert Hood,
Bob Dylan,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens, Silicon Teens.
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.