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 Bahamas and from Edmonton.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dawn Penn to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Deakin. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tommy Roe record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Frankie Knuckles,
The Searchers,
Donny Hathaway,
Saccharine Trust,
Graham Central Station,
Marc Almond,
Brothers Johnson,
Spandau Ballet,
Crash Course in Science,
The Real Kids,
Bobby Womack,
Nas,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Scratch Acid,
Jesper Dahlback,
Pet Shop Boys,
Joyce Sims,
Nik Kershaw,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Kerri Chandler,
The Electric Prunes,
Ralphi Rosario,
The Walker Brothers,
Fugazi,
Maleditus Sound,
Delon & Dalcan,
Whodini,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Excepter,
Subhumans,
The Sonics,
Moby Grape,
Suburban Knight,
MC5,
Kayak,
Loose Ends,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Spoonie Gee,
Harpers Bizarre,
EPMD,
Crime,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gang Green,
Tropical Tobacco,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Connie Case,
Alice Coltrane,
The Seeds,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Con Funk Shun,
Gichy Dan,
John Cale,
Lou Reed & John Cale,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gang Starr,
Eurythmics,
The Moleskins,
Arab on Radar,
John Coltrane,
Camouflage,
The Martian,
Janne Schatter,
Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars, Bang on a Can All-Stars.
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.