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 Honduras and from Lille.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle 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 1967 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Salvador 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog to the dance 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 Pet Shop Boys. All the underground hits.
All U.S. Maple tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every New York Dolls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Zero Boys record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rapeman,
Gerry Rafferty,
Suicide,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Andrew Hill,
Aaron Thompson,
Mr. Review,
La Düsseldorf,
Warren Ellis,
Minny Pops,
The Toasters,
the Normal,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Joey Negro,
Inner City,
The Seeds,
A Certain Ratio,
Chris Corsano,
Bobby Womack,
The Busters,
Young Marble Giants,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Barclay James Harvest,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Deakin,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Stiv Bators,
Lindisfarne,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Tears for Fears,
Jacob Miller,
Eddi Front,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Trumans Water,
Barbara Tucker,
Mantronix,
Heaven 17,
Ultravox,
OOIOO,
The Skatalites,
Iggy Pop,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Guru Guru,
Charles Mingus,
the Human League,
This Heat,
Stetsasonic,
The Sonics,
Josef K,
Scott Walker,
Bob Dylan,
Amon Düül II,
Funky Four + One,
Joyce Sims,
Archie Shepp,
Nas,
Eric Copeland,
Aloha Tigers,
Kas Product,
Monks,
Pulsallama,
Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan, Susan Cadogan.
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.