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 Guinea-Bissau and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 theremin 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 Iggy Pop to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Quantec. All the underground hits.
All The Count Five tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Sonics 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sixth Finger record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quadrant,
Black Moon,
It's A Beautiful Day,
The New Christs,
Sällskapet,
Eric Copeland,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Y Pants,
Agitation Free,
Absolute Body Control,
Sight & Sound,
Crispy Ambulance,
Con Funk Shun,
Masters at Work,
Cymande,
The Martian,
The Grass Roots,
The Gap Band,
Warsaw,
Siglo XX,
The Pop Group,
The Kinks,
Jacob Miller,
Joe Finger,
Alice Coltrane,
The Cure,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bill Near,
Niagra,
Lebanon Hanover,
Amazonics,
Boogie Down Productions,
Tears for Fears,
10cc,
Banda Bassotti,
The Evens,
Pole,
China Crisis,
Index,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Massinfluence,
Black Pus,
Unrelated Segments,
the Germs,
Wasted Youth,
Malaria!,
Carl Craig,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Circle Jerks,
Bob Dylan,
Maleditus Sound,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Wally Richardson,
Nirvana,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Lou Reed,
Matthew Bourne,
T.S.O.L.,
The Associates,
Byron Stingily,
Erasure,
Reagan Youth,
Wings, Wings, Wings, Wings.
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.