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 Turkmenistan and from Jakarta.
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 1966 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 1977 at the first Zapp practice in a loft in Hamilton.
I was working on the arpeggiator sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Eric Copeland to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Bar-Kays. All the underground hits.
All Rites of Spring tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Peanut Butter Conspiracy 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lucky Dragons record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
cv313,
The Buckinghams,
The Remains,
Cybotron,
Hashim,
Black Moon,
Dorothy Ashby,
John Holt,
Throbbing Gristle,
Harry Pussy,
Desert Stars,
The Index,
Infiniti,
Bizarre Inc.,
This Heat,
World's Most,
The Real Kids,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Connie Case,
Kool Moe Dee,
Fat Boys,
Al Stewart,
X-Ray Spex,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Soft Machine,
Harmonia,
Yazoo,
Barclay James Harvest,
Man Parrish,
Black Flag,
MC5,
Crispian St. Peters,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Loose Ends,
Kerrie Biddell,
Cheater Slicks,
Kerri Chandler,
Nick Fraelich,
Deakin,
David McCallum,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Soft Cell,
Excepter,
DJ Sneak,
Joey Negro,
Camberwell Now,
Moby Grape,
Bang On A Can,
The Knickerbockers,
Joe Finger,
The Last Poets,
The Dave Clark Five,
Minutemen,
Pantaleimon,
Darondo,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Delta 5,
Charles Mingus,
Susan Cadogan,
Pagans,
Metal Thangz,
OOIOO,
Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs, Au Pairs.
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.