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 Bolivia and from Accra.
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 1961 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Toronto and Manila.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 1979 at the first Second Layer practice in a loft in South London.
I was working on the 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Deakin to the punk 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 Pole. All the underground hits.
All Bobby Sherman tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Frankie Knuckles record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Buzzcocks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Y Pants,
Deepchord,
Sandy B,
Suburban Knight,
Aloha Tigers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Five Americans,
Spandau Ballet,
Archie Shepp,
Talk Talk,
The Alarm Clocks,
Rakim,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Surgeon,
48th St. Collective,
The Grass Roots,
Adolescents,
Wings,
Andrew Hill,
Max Romeo,
The Slits,
Gang Green,
Moby Grape,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Henry Cow,
Anakelly,
Leonard Cohen,
London Community Gospel Choir,
F. McDonald,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Pierre Henry,
Bang On A Can,
The Neon Judgement,
Procol Harum,
Throbbing Gristle,
Technova,
The Selecter,
Crooked Eye,
The Music Machine,
Symarip,
Rufus Thomas,
Scrapy,
Ultra Naté,
Scratch Acid,
Davy DMX,
The Vogues,
Half Japanese,
Sun Ra,
Monks,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Visage,
The American Breed,
Radio Birdman,
The Walker Brothers,
Main Source,
Eurythmics,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Josef K,
Soul Sonic Force,
Pussy Galore,
Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca, Glenn Branca.
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.