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 Cameroon and from Lille.
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 London and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 1976 at the first Chic practice in a loft in New York.
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 Gastr Del Sol to the disco kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Bang on a Can All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Andrew Hill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Altered Images record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The New Christs,
Delta 5,
Faust,
The Remains,
Mantronix,
Ralphi Rosario,
Graham Central Station,
The Real Kids,
The Moleskins,
The Gun Club,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Dawn Penn,
Niagra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Aloha Tigers,
John Lydon,
Angry Samoans,
the Human League,
Thee Headcoats,
Gong,
Slick Rick,
U.S. Maple,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
David Axelrod,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Steve Hackett,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Circle Jerks,
The Leaves,
Minny Pops,
Pagans,
Brothers Johnson,
Oblivians,
The Residents,
Wire,
Whodini,
Drexciya,
Isaac Hayes,
Harmonia,
Los Fastidios,
Neu!,
The Fortunes,
Crispian St. Peters,
Black Bananas,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
The Seeds,
The Toasters,
Arthur Verocai,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rites of Spring,
Black Flag,
Mandrill,
Wally Richardson,
The Skatalites,
The Saints,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Raincoats,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.