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 Honduras and from Jakarta.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Toronto.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 808 sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Heaven 17 to the techno kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sun Ra. All the underground hits.
All Black Moon tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Althea and Donna record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a T.S.O.L. record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Yazoo,
the Sonics,
Man Parrish,
Magazine,
The Cure,
The Star Department,
Max Romeo,
K-Klass,
Ornette Coleman,
Model 500,
Funkadelic,
The Alarm Clocks,
Dorothy Ashby,
Blake Baxter,
LL Cool J,
Minutemen,
Rufus Thomas,
Cal Tjader,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Maleditus Sound,
Anthony Braxton,
Byron Stingily,
Shuggie Otis,
The Real Kids,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Porter Ricks,
Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon,
Mars,
Prince Buster,
the Bar-Kays,
Main Source,
Japan,
Howard Jones,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Matthew Bourne,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
The Associates,
Avey Tare,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
KRS-One,
Kool Moe Dee,
Pulsallama,
Hashim,
Amazonics,
Kerri Chandler,
Nik Kershaw,
Shoche,
Ultra Naté,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Nils Olav,
The Tremeloes,
Severed Heads,
John Lydon,
Scion,
the Human League,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Althea and Donna,
Make Up,
Joey Negro,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Spandau Ballet,
Steve Hackett,
The American Breed,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme, Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme.
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.