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 Australia and from Toronto.
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 1963 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 güiro sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson to the techno kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Yellowson. All the underground hits.
All Magma tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jawbox record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 synthesizer and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Talk Talk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
X-Ray Spex,
Dorothy Ashby,
Sun Ra,
Iggy Pop,
Subhumans,
Intrusion,
Graham Central Station,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Blues Magoos,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Camouflage,
Dual Sessions,
Goldenarms,
Liliput,
Brothers Johnson,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Neon Judgement,
Roger Hodgson,
The Residents,
U.S. Maple,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Wings,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Barrington Levy,
New York Dolls,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Metal Thangz,
Lalo Schifrin,
Pagans,
The Tremeloes,
John Holt,
The Motions,
The Birthday Party,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Youth Brigade,
The Remains,
Radio Birdman,
Inner City,
Audionom,
Sugar Minott,
Dead Boys,
Country Teasers,
Boredoms,
Bizarre Inc.,
Soft Cell,
Traffic Nightmare,
Rekid,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Jeff Mills,
Mars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Vladislav Delay,
Susan Cadogan,
Faraquet,
The Martian,
Maleditus Sound,
Icehouse,
Big Daddy Kane,
Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water, Trumans Water.
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.