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 Uruguay and from Woodstock.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 arpeggiator 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 Marcia Griffiths 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 Althea and Donna. All the underground hits.
All Los Fastidios tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Quando Quango record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 theremin and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Popol Vuh record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Red Krayola,
Little Man,
The Move,
The Happenings,
D'Angelo,
Sun Ra,
FM Einheit,
Steve Hackett,
Dorothy Ashby,
Los Fastidios,
Donald Byrd,
The Black Dice,
New York Dolls,
The New Christs,
Amon Düül II,
Sam Rivers,
Laurel Aitken,
Donny Hathaway,
The Music Machine,
Gil Scott Heron,
Ohio Players,
The American Breed,
Fatback Band,
The Slits,
The Moleskins,
Procol Harum,
Audionom,
KRS-One,
Deepchord,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Bobby Byrd,
Lalann,
T. Rex,
Goldenarms,
Grandmaster Flash,
Charles Mingus,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pussy Galore,
Sun City Girls,
Fear,
Marvin Gaye,
Grauzone,
Kenny Larkin,
Bush Tetras,
The Fire Engines,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Eve St. Jones,
Danielle Patucci,
Dead Boys,
Alphaville,
Man Eating Sloth,
The Fall,
Smog,
Mission of Burma,
The Blackbyrds,
Peter & Gordon,
Altered Images,
The Electric Prunes,
Lucky Dragons,
Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith, Jerry Gold Smith.
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.