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 Romania and from Spokane.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983.
I was there at the first Art of Noise show in London.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Houston.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Surgeon to the rock 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 Agent Orange. All the underground hits.
All The Monochrome Set tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Byron Stingily record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wolf Eyes,
Alton Ellis,
Kenny Larkin,
Saccharine Trust,
The Mummies,
DJ Style,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Patti Smith,
Monolake,
Harpers Bizarre,
Agitation Free,
Radio Birdman,
Tropical Tobacco,
Quando Quango,
The Trojans,
Inner City,
Marine Girls,
Nation of Ulysses,
Sarah Menescal,
Nirvana,
Slick Rick,
The Names,
John Coltrane,
Swell Maps,
The Divine Comedy,
Susan Cadogan,
Leonard Cohen,
Junior Murvin,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Juan Atkins,
Jimmy McGriff,
Colin Newman,
Trumans Water,
The Young Rascals,
Faust,
Livin' Joy,
The Victims,
Joe Finger,
Moby Grape,
Cluster,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Erykah Badu,
Bush Tetras,
The Dave Clark Five,
The Sound,
Royal Trux,
Pantaleimon,
Grandmaster Flash,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Busters,
Severed Heads,
Wings,
Jacob Miller,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
10cc,
Flamin' Groovies,
Ornette Coleman,
Soulsonic Force,
Slave,
Scan 7,
Sex Pistols,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Tremeloes,
Skarface, Skarface, Skarface, Skarface.
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.