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 Venezuela and from Toronto.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare 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 Eddi Front to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Wire. All the underground hits.
All Mad Mike tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pantytec record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mighty Diamonds record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lightning Bolt,
Los Fastidios,
The Velvet Underground,
Whodini,
Matthew Halsall,
The Raincoats,
Bang On A Can,
Marshall Jefferson,
Accadde A,
Ultra Naté,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Terrestrial Tones,
Donald Byrd,
Cluster,
Alison Limerick,
Tears for Fears,
The Blues Magoos,
The Divine Comedy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jeru the Damaja,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Stockholm Monsters,
Laurel Aitken,
Saccharine Trust,
Ohio Players,
Ponytail,
F. McDonald,
Deadbeat,
Supertramp,
Wolf Eyes,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sugar Minott,
Black Pus,
Aaron Thompson,
Drexciya,
Black Flag,
Interpol,
Davy DMX,
Lakeside,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Marmalade,
Angry Samoans,
Throbbing Gristle,
The New Christs,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Albert Ayler,
Amon Düül II,
The Saints,
The Gladiators,
Fela Kuti,
Gang Starr,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Gun Club,
Judy Mowatt,
Barclay James Harvest,
Kas Product,
June of 44,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pet Shop Boys,
Young Marble Giants,
The Cure,
Niagra, Niagra, Niagra, Niagra.
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.