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 Burkina and from Beijing.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Feelies practice in a loft in Haledon.
I was working on the guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 The Modern Lovers to the dance 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282. All the underground hits.
All Lou Christie tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Glenn Branca 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Black Pus record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator 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 Bar-Kays,
Man Eating Sloth,
Kurtis Blow,
The Fortunes,
Fat Boys,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Lyres,
Roxette,
Chris & Cosey,
Urselle,
Derrick Morgan,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Index,
The Evens,
Stiv Bators,
Faraquet,
Nick Fraelich,
Agent Orange,
Stetsasonic,
The Fall,
Robert Hood,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
John Lydon,
These Immortal Souls,
Lakeside,
Quantec,
Minutemen,
Vainqueur,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Section 25,
Girls At Our Best!,
Pere Ubu,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
R.M.O.,
Pet Shop Boys,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Connie Case,
The Blues Magoos,
Henry Cow,
Bronski Beat,
Inner City,
Audionom,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Half Japanese,
The J.B.'s,
Lou Christie,
Second Layer,
Ossler,
The Shadows of Knight,
Don Cherry,
Stockholm Monsters,
Popol Vuh,
The American Breed,
Sam Rivers,
Rotary Connection,
Cal Tjader,
One Last Wish,
Saccharine Trust,
Yellowson,
Derrick May,
Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario, Ralphi Rosario.
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.