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 Cameroon and from Manchester.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 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 Duran Duran to the punk 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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All The Gladiators tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Underground Resistance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Be Bop Deluxe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Procol Harum,
The Standells,
Mary Jane Girls,
10cc,
Drexciya,
Con Funk Shun,
Make Up,
Harpers Bizarre,
Isaac Hayes,
Jandek,
Surgeon,
Pylon,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
New Age Steppers,
Roy Ayers,
Bill Near,
K-Klass,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Spoonie Gee,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Heaven 17,
Lungfish,
Absolute Body Control,
Pulsallama,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Slave,
Simply Red,
Liliput,
Guru Guru,
Underground Resistance,
The Stooges,
Jeff Mills,
Khruangbin,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Toni Rubio,
The Associates,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Lindisfarne,
The Victims,
Alton Ellis,
Pere Ubu,
Flash Fearless,
Mad Mike,
The Walker Brothers,
Loose Ends,
Livin' Joy,
Sandy B,
EPMD,
Byron Stingily,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Television,
the Bar-Kays,
Roxy Music,
Kurtis Blow,
Donny Hathaway,
Black Flag,
Wire,
Jeff Lynne,
Hot Snakes,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.