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 Tajikistan and from Glasgow.
But I was there.
I was there in .
I was there at the first Suicide show in New York.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 The Index to the rock kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Isaac Hayes. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Ultimate Spinach 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
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 Modern Lovers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Maleditus Sound,
Arthur Verocai,
K-Klass,
Public Enemy,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Bronski Beat,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Glenn Branca,
Schoolly D,
The Doors,
Sixth Finger,
Liliput,
Wolf Eyes,
Cecil Taylor,
Eden Ahbez,
The Invisible,
Theoretical Girls,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Ponytail,
Kenny Larkin,
Eric B and Rakim,
Lakeside,
Index,
The Neon Judgement,
DNA,
Josef K,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Nick Fraelich,
Harpers Bizarre,
The J.B.'s,
Amon Düül II,
Glambeats Corp.,
Boredoms,
The Grass Roots,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Blackbyrds,
John Lydon,
Gang Green,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Easy Going,
Wasted Youth,
Girls At Our Best!,
Agent Orange,
Spandau Ballet,
Jandek,
Joensuu 1685,
Franke,
Absolute Body Control,
Michelle Simonal,
June of 44,
Echospace,
The Cure,
Minor Threat,
Bush Tetras,
Deadbeat,
Angry Samoans,
Von Mondo,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Divine Comedy,
Livin' Joy,
The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps, The Cramps.
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.