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 Liberia and from Stockholm.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Pussy Galore to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Robert Hood. All the underground hits.
All Boogie Down Productions tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry's Kids record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Slits record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Masters at Work,
Jacob Miller,
U.S. Maple,
Bootsy Collins,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Symarip,
Simply Red,
Bobbi Humphrey,
MDC,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Girls At Our Best!,
Moby Grape,
Joey Negro,
Frankie Knuckles,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gang Starr,
The Walker Brothers,
Rapeman,
Hardrive,
Flipper,
Peter & Gordon,
The Happenings,
Eden Ahbez,
Thompson Twins,
Eric Dolphy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Blake Baxter,
John Foxx,
Idris Muhammad,
Swans,
Public Enemy,
Von Mondo,
Pole,
Kaleidoscope,
Country Teasers,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Smiths,
Pet Shop Boys,
JFA,
Intrusion,
Delon & Dalcan,
Accadde A,
The Zeros,
Amon Düül II,
Delta 5,
Dead Boys,
Lower 48,
Das Ding,
Metal Thangz,
Sound Behaviour,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Khruangbin,
Technova,
Sex Pistols,
Arthur Verocai,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Toni Rubio,
EPMD, EPMD, EPMD, EPMD.
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.