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 Greece and from Mexico City.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Ubu show in Cleveland.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 harpsichord sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Moby Grape to the dance 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 New York Dolls. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultimate Spinach record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brass Construction,
Television Personalities,
Cal Tjader,
cv313,
Pere Ubu,
Slick Rick,
The Pretty Things,
Metal Thangz,
June of 44,
the Soft Cell,
Colin Newman,
Sight & Sound,
The Human League,
Gichy Dan,
The Trojans,
Skriet,
The Index,
The Mummies,
Fatback Band,
The Slits,
Don Cherry,
Spoonie Gee,
Kevin Saunderson,
Todd Rundgren,
The Raincoats,
Blake Baxter,
U.S. Maple,
The Busters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Eden Ahbez,
Lungfish,
Crispian St. Peters,
Buzzcocks,
Malaria!,
Duran Duran,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Boredoms,
Godley & Creme,
Suburban Knight,
The Walker Brothers,
The Beau Brummels,
Public Enemy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Whodini,
Mars,
Porter Ricks,
R.M.O.,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Excepter,
Lou Christie,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Wings,
The Gladiators,
Surgeon,
Ultra Naté,
Stockholm Monsters,
Sex Pistols,
Dave Gahan,
The Standells,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Kayak, Kayak, Kayak, Kayak.
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.