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 Samoa and from Madrid.
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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Hong Kong and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 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 Stockholm Monsters to the rap 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 Rhythim Is Rhythim. All the underground hits.
All Arcadia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every These Immortal Souls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Fire Engines,
The Golliwogs,
Bob Dylan,
Outsiders,
Crooked Eye,
Angry Samoans,
DNA,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
H. Thieme,
Gang Green,
Ultra Naté,
Electric Prunes,
The Gladiators,
Black Pus,
Pet Shop Boys,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Busters,
Juan Atkins,
Stiv Bators,
The Sonics,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Judy Mowatt,
Television Personalities,
Dual Sessions,
Hasil Adkins,
Soulsonic Force,
Dead Boys,
Blossom Toes,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Sugar Minott,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
the Slits,
The Birthday Party,
The Saints,
Wolf Eyes,
Wasted Youth,
Shuggie Otis,
Arcadia,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Soul II Soul,
Neu!,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Erasure,
Model 500,
Junior Murvin,
the Soft Cell,
The Fugs,
Cybotron,
The Evens,
The Sound,
Glenn Branca,
Y Pants,
The Seeds,
Ossler,
UT,
X-Ray Spex,
Livin' Joy,
Rites of Spring,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Ice-T,
This Heat,
Alice Coltrane,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.