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 Chile and from Lagos.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Johannesburg.
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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Joe Finger to the rap kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Jesper Dahlbäck. All the underground hits.
All Eyeless In Gaza tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blancmange 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Peanut Butter Conspiracy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Slave,
John Cale,
Judy Mowatt,
Dual Sessions,
The Remains,
Brothers Johnson,
Metal Thangz,
Black Moon,
The Residents,
the Fania All-Stars,
Q and Not U,
Absolute Body Control,
H. Thieme,
Roxette,
Nas,
Bronski Beat,
cv313,
Radiohead,
The Electric Prunes,
Yellowson,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Agitation Free,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Sexual Harrassment,
Audionom,
Freddie Wadling,
Trumans Water,
The Sisters of Mercy,
The Names,
K-Klass,
Crooked Eye,
The Real Kids,
Avey Tare,
Simply Red,
A Flock of Seagulls,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Morten Harket,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Jeff Lynne,
Shoche,
Infiniti,
Circle Jerks,
Pere Ubu,
Television,
Accadde A,
Ornette Coleman,
Black Bananas,
The Gap Band,
Chrome,
Talk Talk,
Amon Düül II,
Jacob Miller,
Sun City Girls,
The Walker Brothers,
Unrelated Segments,
Japan,
Funky Four + One,
Susan Cadogan,
Lungfish,
The Knickerbockers,
Rosa Yemen,
Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review, Mr. Review.
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.