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 Iran 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 1965 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Copenhagen.
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 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 Lou Reed 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 Fatback Band to the grime 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 The Tremeloes. All the underground hits.
All Little Man tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Shadows of Knight 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fort Wilson Riot 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?
The Seeds,
Soft Cell,
The Victims,
Sandy B,
The Slits,
Chrome,
Toni Rubio,
The Motions,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Al Stewart,
Eddi Front,
Pharoah Sanders,
Panda Bear,
Glambeats Corp.,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
The Dead C,
The Knickerbockers,
The Star Department,
The Neon Judgement,
Ronnie Foster,
Y Pants,
Bobby Byrd,
New Order,
Slave,
The Beau Brummels,
the Germs,
Funky Four + One,
Crooked Eye,
Rapeman,
Sixth Finger,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Gun Club,
Rufus Thomas,
The Offenders,
Mars,
Mad Mike,
Magma,
Peter & Gordon,
Blancmange,
Bang On A Can,
The Birthday Party,
Jeru the Damaja,
Radio Birdman,
Heaven 17,
Maleditus Sound,
The Fortunes,
Parry Music,
Hot Snakes,
the Human League,
Letta Mbulu,
Idris Muhammad,
Zapp,
Scott Walker,
Mark Hollis,
Soul II Soul,
X-101,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sam Rivers,
Ossler,
The Cramps,
The Gories, The Gories, The Gories, The Gories.
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.