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 Ukraine and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1962.
I was there at the first Guess Who show in Winnipeg.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Con Funk Shun to the disco 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 Aswad. All the underground hits.
All The Fire Engines tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Toni Rubio 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 '60s 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 Scrapy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
Marc Almond,
Jimmy McGriff,
Country Teasers,
Jeru the Damaja,
Throbbing Gristle,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Lightning Bolt,
The Fall,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Cymande,
The Dirtbombs,
Severed Heads,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Kas Product,
Animal Collective,
Soft Cell,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Sonny Sharrock,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Wire,
Kayak,
X-101,
Los Fastidios,
Black Sheep,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Maleditus Sound,
Danielle Patucci,
Tropical Tobacco,
The Blues Magoos,
The Vogues,
The Smoke,
Lakeside,
Loose Ends,
Sun Ra,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Aaron Thompson,
Angry Samoans,
Kenny Larkin,
La Düsseldorf,
The Busters,
Scan 7,
Don Cherry,
Boredoms,
Curtis Mayfield,
Ronan,
Thee Headcoats,
Boogie Down Productions,
A Flock of Seagulls,
The Slits,
Swans,
Janne Schatter,
Fat Boys,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
In Retrospect,
Harry Pussy,
Shuggie Otis,
Das Ding,
The Slackers,
Mandrill,
Susan Cadogan,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.