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 Uzbekistan and from London.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the oboe 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 Tres Demented to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Anthony Braxton. All the underground hits.
All Graham Central Station tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magazine 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Silicon Teens record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rufus Thomas,
Colin Newman,
The Durutti Column,
The Walker Brothers,
Matthew Halsall,
Barbara Tucker,
The Sisters of Mercy,
cv313,
Skarface,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Second Layer,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Chrome,
Lalann,
Marine Girls,
Robert Wyatt,
Gang Gang Dance,
The Monks,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Grass Roots,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
X-102,
Bluetip,
Lebanon Hanover,
Albert Ayler,
H. Thieme,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Doobie Brothers,
a-ha,
Archie Shepp,
the Germs,
Sarah Menescal,
Sonic Youth,
PIL,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Juan Atkins,
The Alarm Clocks,
the Swans,
Sex Pistols,
Kerrie Biddell,
DJ Style,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
The Black Dice,
Lou Reed,
Fifty Foot Hose,
June Days,
Malaria!,
48th St. Collective,
Henry Cow,
Freddie Wadling,
The Vogues,
Todd Rundgren,
John Lydon,
Livin' Joy,
Basic Channel,
The Electric Prunes,
June of 44,
Duran Duran,
Blake Baxter,
Quadrant,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.