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 Benin and from Tehran.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 spring reverb 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 The Moleskins to the rap kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 The Birthday Party. All the underground hits.
All Malaria! tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Accadde A 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Wally Richardson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Shadows of Knight,
The Real Kids,
Shoche,
Outsiders,
Lungfish,
Popol Vuh,
Gabor Szabo,
The Doobie Brothers,
Tears for Fears,
Grandmaster Flash,
Erasure,
Swans,
Kurtis Blow,
KRS-One,
Sonic Youth,
Pulsallama,
Juan Atkins,
Silicon Teens,
Mad Mike,
Excepter,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Scrapy,
Kenny Larkin,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Ludus,
Y Pants,
This Heat,
Liliput,
Parry Music,
Robert Wyatt,
Tim Buckley,
Sister Nancy,
Visage,
Judy Mowatt,
Procol Harum,
John Lydon,
Smog,
June Days,
Country Teasers,
Tropical Tobacco,
Deepchord,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Chris Corsano,
Wire,
AZ,
E-Dancer,
Eric Dolphy,
Mo-Dettes,
CMW,
Severed Heads,
The American Breed,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Al Stewart,
Lakeside,
The Neon Judgement,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Durutti Column,
Unrelated Segments,
Fugazi,
Whodini,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))), Scott Walker + Sunn O))).
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.