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 Kosovo and from Beijing.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Lewis show in Vancouver.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the mellotron 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 Aaron Thompson to the electroclash 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 The Cramps. All the underground hits.
All The Martian tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Derrick May 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 chamberlin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Adolescents record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gichy Dan,
The Smiths,
The Divine Comedy,
Lightning Bolt,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Eddi Front,
The Moody Blues,
The Fortunes,
Eli Mardock,
Minnie Riperton,
ABC,
Man Parrish,
Sun City Girls,
The Sound,
Delta 5,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Rekid,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Loose Ends,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
The American Breed,
The Fugs,
Kool Moe Dee,
Chris & Cosey,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Kerrie Biddell,
Zero Boys,
Los Fastidios,
Ten City,
Barrington Levy,
Pole,
Cheater Slicks,
Sight & Sound,
The Wake,
Frankie Knuckles,
Grauzone,
Hashim,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Ludus,
R.M.O.,
Nico,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Bronski Beat,
The New Christs,
Suicide,
Theoretical Girls,
The Star Department,
Sixth Finger,
Fad Gadget,
Zapp,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Outsiders,
Traffic Nightmare,
The United States of America,
Matthew Halsall,
The Searchers,
Adolescents,
Lakeside,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Matthew Bourne,
Brick, Brick, Brick, Brick.
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.