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 Liechtenstein and from Tokyo.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 Bronski Beat to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gastr Del Sol. All the underground hits.
All The Busters tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Flesh Eaters record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Brothers Johnson,
Newcleus,
Masters at Work,
Joe Smooth,
Lebanon Hanover,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Brand Nubian,
LL Cool J,
The Pop Group,
Davy DMX,
Scratch Acid,
Deadbeat,
Smog,
The Busters,
New York Dolls,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Iggy Pop,
The Fuzztones,
Crime,
Suicide,
Deakin,
Todd Terry,
T.S.O.L.,
Au Pairs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Bob Dylan,
The Litter,
The Knickerbockers,
Youth Brigade,
Maleditus Sound,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
The Evens,
Scion,
Sight & Sound,
The Velvet Underground,
the Germs,
Aswad,
Tres Demented,
Man Parrish,
The J.B.'s,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Sister Nancy,
Neu!,
Silicon Teens,
June of 44,
The Vogues,
Ponytail,
Sarah Menescal,
The Flesh Eaters,
John Cale,
Amon Düül II,
Gabor Szabo,
X-102,
Eden Ahbez,
the Fania All-Stars,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bad Manners,
Skarface,
Pulsallama,
Jacques Brel,
Wings,
Nick Fraelich,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Spoonie Gee,
Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case, Connie Case.
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.