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 Denmark and from Sao Paulo.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 organ 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 Wire to the dance 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 Little Man. All the underground hits.
All Amazonics tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bang On A Can record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Pretty Things record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
John Holt,
Derrick May,
Dark Day,
Youth Brigade,
Albert Ayler,
Wasted Youth,
Bob Dylan,
The Victims,
Saccharine Trust,
Bluetip,
Electric Prunes,
Mr. Review,
The Searchers,
Gang of Four,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Tres Demented,
Susan Cadogan,
AZ,
Livin' Joy,
Lou Reed,
Joensuu 1685,
U.S. Maple,
B.T. Express,
the Association,
The Red Krayola,
Soft Cell,
Television Personalities,
Arcadia,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
T. Rex,
EPMD,
Technova,
James White and The Blacks,
Simply Red,
Roy Ayers,
Los Fastidios,
Mars,
Joe Finger,
Dave Gahan,
The Monochrome Set,
Babytalk,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Beau Brummels,
Cluster,
Blossom Toes,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Gil Scott Heron,
Stiv Bators,
Delta 5,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wire,
Make Up,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Moss Icon,
Fluxion,
David Axelrod,
Lower 48,
Slave, Slave, Slave, Slave.
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.