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 Mauritius and from Copenhagen.
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 1969 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Edmonton 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Juan Atkins to the dance 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 Donald Byrd. All the underground hits.
All The Kinks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ajijia Myrayebe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Gap Band,
Masters at Work,
Jeff Mills,
Robert Hood,
Gabor Szabo,
The Mojo Men,
Nirvana,
The Monochrome Set,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Byron Stingily,
the Fania All-Stars,
Television,
The Star Department,
Marcia Griffiths,
Erykah Badu,
Jesper Dahlback,
Guru Guru,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Bang On A Can,
The Dave Clark Five,
cv313,
The Saints,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobby Sherman,
the Soft Cell,
Ohio Players,
Fela Kuti,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pet Shop Boys,
Fat Boys,
The Music Machine,
L. Decosne,
Los Fastidios,
Swans,
Bluetip,
La Düsseldorf,
kango's stein massive,
Bush Tetras,
Thompson Twins,
the Sonics,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Little Man,
Bobby Byrd,
The Moleskins,
Dave Gahan,
Index,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
The Trojans,
Slave,
Terry Callier,
The Buckinghams,
Crispy Ambulance,
Jeff Lynne,
The Human League,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The J.B.'s,
Franke,
Piero Umiliani,
Porter Ricks,
Junior Murvin,
Donny Hathaway,
The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas, The Barracudas.
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.