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 Stockholm.
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 1963 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Fortunes to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Chris & Cosey. All the underground hits.
All Byron Stingily tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Minutemen 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Joy Division record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Arcadia,
Motorama,
Blancmange,
Kerrie Biddell,
the Soft Cell,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
the Germs,
Metal Thangz,
Derrick Morgan,
Jacques Brel,
Magma,
Cybotron,
Average White Band,
Cal Tjader,
The Sound,
Radiohead,
The Doobie Brothers,
The Detroit Cobras,
Max Romeo,
Spandau Ballet,
The Associates,
Masters at Work,
T.S.O.L.,
David McCallum,
The Music Machine,
Vainqueur,
Lalo Schifrin,
Jesper Dahlback,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Charles Mingus,
Albert Ayler,
Bobby Sherman,
Television Personalities,
The Cramps,
Gang Green,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Walker Brothers,
Nirvana,
Tubeway Army,
Black Sheep,
Underground Resistance,
The Victims,
Gichy Dan,
Aswad,
La Düsseldorf,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Deakin,
The Gladiators,
Aaron Thompson,
The Fire Engines,
Lou Reed,
Roxette,
The Invisible,
Kerri Chandler,
Minor Threat,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Eli Mardock,
Thee Headcoats,
H. Thieme,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Trojans,
Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy, Harry Pussy.
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.