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 Portugal and from Lyon.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the clarinet 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 Fort Wilson Riot to the grunge 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 These Immortal Souls. All the underground hits.
All Y Pants tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Dave Gahan 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Vogues,
Main Source,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Moody Blues,
Section 25,
Masters at Work,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Hot Snakes,
Scan 7,
Rotary Connection,
The Alarm Clocks,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Real Kids,
The Move,
Kaleidoscope,
the Sonics,
The Invisible,
Crispian St. Peters,
Prince Buster,
Das Ding,
Suicide,
Barrington Levy,
Black Pus,
Grandmaster Flash,
Ralphi Rosario,
New York Dolls,
Patti Smith,
Pierre Henry,
the Fania All-Stars,
Crash Course in Science,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Drive Like Jehu,
Radiohead,
Colin Newman,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Nation of Ulysses,
Dorothy Ashby,
June of 44,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Neon Judgement,
Mission of Burma,
Sugar Minott,
Scion,
David Axelrod,
Porter Ricks,
The Tremeloes,
The Standells,
Blossom Toes,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Public Image Ltd.,
Rites of Spring,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Joyce Sims,
Letta Mbulu,
Lyres,
The Music Machine,
Scientists,
Fugazi,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mad Mike,
The Saints, The Saints, The Saints, The Saints.
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.