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 Peru and from Manila.
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 Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 1971 at the first Neu! practice in a loft in Düsseldorf.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Doors to the disco kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Essential Logic. All the underground hits.
All Symarip tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fugazi record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sex Pistols,
Dave Gahan,
Howard Jones,
The Victims,
Bluetip,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Wasted Youth,
Pussy Galore,
Supertramp,
Crash Course in Science,
Grey Daturas,
Tim Buckley,
Rekid,
The Fall,
the Swans,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Radio Birdman,
Idris Muhammad,
Marmalade,
Angry Samoans,
The Fugs,
Ituana,
Moby Grape,
U.S. Maple,
In Retrospect,
Cymande,
Scratch Acid,
Michelle Simonal,
Swell Maps,
Surgeon,
Gong,
Boredoms,
John Lydon,
Henry Cow,
Bobby Byrd,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Janne Schatter,
Crispy Ambulance,
Sixth Finger,
Fat Boys,
Fad Gadget,
Junior Murvin,
Dorothy Ashby,
Brick,
Liliput,
The Cramps,
Gabor Szabo,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Standells,
Newcleus,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Guru Guru,
Groovy Waters,
Spoonie Gee,
Hasil Adkins,
Echospace,
The Walker Brothers,
OOIOO,
Lalann,
The Move,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Aloha Tigers,
Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine, Soft Machine.
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.