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 Korea North and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Ponytail to the punk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Mission of Burma. All the underground hits.
All Cecil Taylor tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Albert Ayler record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Bobby Byrd record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Misunderstood,
Boogie Down Productions,
Porter Ricks,
Jawbox,
Barry Ungar,
New Age Steppers,
The Raincoats,
Ituana,
Model 500,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Bobby Womack,
Bobby Sherman,
Inner City,
Ultra Naté,
Big Daddy Kane,
Mandrill,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Warsaw,
Matthew Halsall,
Ponytail,
Tres Demented,
The Fuzztones,
Amazonics,
Quadrant,
Harmonia,
X-102,
T. Rex,
the Association,
Hoover,
Gang Green,
Dennis Brown,
Gregory Isaacs,
Blake Baxter,
Barrington Levy,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Index,
Infiniti,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Fatback Band,
The Sonics,
Don Cherry,
Angry Samoans,
Lee Hazlewood,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Fire Engines,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Blues Magoos,
New York Dolls,
Jandek,
U.S. Maple,
Wolf Eyes,
Skriet,
Eddi Front,
Deadbeat,
Jeff Lynne,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Monochrome Set,
Curtis Mayfield,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Young Rascals,
Khruangbin,
Davy DMX,
The Beau Brummels,
Juan Atkins,
Neu!, Neu!, Neu!, Neu!.
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.