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 Equatorial Guinea and from Columbus.
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 1961 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Spokane.
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 guitar 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 B.T. Express to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Soulsonic Force. All the underground hits.
All the Soft Cell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Star Department record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 harpsichord and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson 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?
The Trojans,
Bauhaus,
Bill Near,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Mo-Dettes,
Arcadia,
Rapeman,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Neon Judgement,
Aswad,
AZ,
Gang of Four,
Eric B and Rakim,
Thee Headcoats,
Youth Brigade,
Lucky Dragons,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Jeff Lynne,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Schoolly D,
Jesper Dahlback,
Q65,
X-Ray Spex,
Loose Ends,
the Fania All-Stars,
Amon Düül,
Japan,
Tubeway Army,
Lindisfarne,
Quadrant,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
The Human League,
Aaron Thompson,
Chrome,
Sam Rivers,
Circle Jerks,
Spoonie Gee,
Fort Wilson Riot,
The Cowsills,
Nils Olav,
The Selecter,
Mary Jane Girls,
Lee Hazlewood,
Pere Ubu,
Negative Approach,
Stockholm Monsters,
Black Flag,
Skaos,
Amon Düül II,
DJ Style,
Adolescents,
Mars,
Rekid,
The Music Machine,
Dual Sessions,
the Bar-Kays,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Marcia Griffiths,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Misunderstood,
DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace, DeepChord presents Echospace.
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.