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 Beijing.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 marimba 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 Oppenheimer Analysis to the grunge 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 the Swans. All the underground hits.
All OOIOO tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Liliput record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk 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 clarinet and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gary Puckett & The Union Gap record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hoover,
the Fania All-Stars,
Jacob Miller,
Brick,
Cluster,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Barclay James Harvest,
K-Klass,
UT,
June Days,
The Zeros,
Radio Birdman,
Bauhaus,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Aaron Thompson,
Bobby Womack,
Dawn Penn,
Pharoah Sanders,
Drive Like Jehu,
Newcleus,
Kaleidoscope,
Duran Duran,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Sixth Finger,
the Human League,
FM Einheit,
Outsiders,
Magma,
Gil Scott Heron,
Bronski Beat,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Cybotron,
Unrelated Segments,
The Monochrome Set,
Derrick Morgan,
Arcadia,
Andrew Hill,
John Cale,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Nirvana,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Star Department,
The Flesh Eaters,
LL Cool J,
Patti Smith,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Dead Boys,
Royal Trux,
The Human League,
the Sonics,
Audionom,
Scratch Acid,
Robert Wyatt,
The Move,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The United States of America,
Q and Not U,
The Litter,
Don Cherry,
The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang, The Men They Couldn't Hang.
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.