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 St Kitts & Nevis and from New York.
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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Spokane.
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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
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 Absolute Body Control 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 Pere Ubu. All the underground hits.
All Sunsets and Hearts tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nils Olav record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Grandmaster Flash record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Davy DMX,
Black Sheep,
The Slits,
Nation of Ulysses,
Eric Copeland,
Echospace,
John Holt,
H. Thieme,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
the Soft Cell,
Freddie Wadling,
Half Japanese,
Eve St. Jones,
The Doobie Brothers,
Radiopuhelimet,
Warsaw,
Wolf Eyes,
The Busters,
Harry Pussy,
Sugar Minott,
Absolute Body Control,
Jawbox,
The Count Five,
Barclay James Harvest,
Subhumans,
Swell Maps,
Animal Collective,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Brass Construction,
Kas Product,
The Evens,
the Human League,
Agent Orange,
The Blues Magoos,
The Dirtbombs,
The Red Krayola,
Gang Green,
The Beau Brummels,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Rapeman,
John Cale,
The Gladiators,
MC5,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Scrapy,
Theoretical Girls,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Junior Murvin,
Derrick May,
The Motions,
La Düsseldorf,
Tommy Roe,
The Monochrome Set,
Thompson Twins,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Magazine,
Spandau Ballet,
Monks,
Don Cherry,
Ice-T,
Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near, Bill Near.
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.