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 Libya and from Bologna.
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 1966 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 Lewis practice in a loft in Vancouver.
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 Kas Product to the dance kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Pretty Things. All the underground hits.
All Ultramagnetic MC's tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Human League 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fat Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Seeds,
Sun City Girls,
Sun Ra,
Ronan,
Crooked Eye,
Japan,
John Lydon,
Neil Young,
Lindisfarne,
Wolf Eyes,
The Sound,
Magazine,
the Slits,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Joy Division,
Reagan Youth,
Jeru the Damaja,
JFA,
Suburban Knight,
Suicide,
Pylon,
Pet Shop Boys,
AZ,
Nils Olav,
Scientists,
Au Pairs,
Yellowson,
Skaos,
Crime,
Barclay James Harvest,
Public Image Ltd.,
Drexciya,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Alarm Clocks,
Skarface,
The Gap Band,
Basic Channel,
Byron Stingily,
Fugazi,
Jeff Lynne,
Gichy Dan,
Index,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
The Moody Blues,
Marcia Griffiths,
the Association,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Isaac Hayes,
The Monks,
Cymande,
Angry Samoans,
Kool Moe Dee,
Sexual Harrassment,
Arthur Verocai,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Gang of Four,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Guru Guru,
Can,
F. McDonald,
The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs, The New Christs.
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.