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 Andorra and from Hong Kong.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Toronto 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Smog to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Television. All the underground hits.
All David McCallum tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Spoonie Gee record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Cosmic Jokers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Index,
The Detroit Cobras,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Pierre Henry,
Stockholm Monsters,
The American Breed,
Suicide,
Public Enemy,
The Blackbyrds,
Johnny Clarke,
Lou Christie,
The Cramps,
Quantec,
Kevin Saunderson,
Delta 5,
ABC,
Gastr Del Sol,
Whodini,
Susan Cadogan,
Ultra Naté,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Masters at Work,
Lou Reed,
David Bowie,
Aloha Tigers,
Magma,
KRS-One,
K-Klass,
The Residents,
Ituana,
Scientists,
Eli Mardock,
Hashim,
Interpol,
Scott Walker,
Chrome,
Maurizio,
Pagans,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Minutemen,
The Kinks,
Scratch Acid,
Hot Snakes,
ABBA,
Guru Guru,
Gang of Four,
Todd Rundgren,
Maleditus Sound,
Panda Bear,
Spandau Ballet,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Stooges,
Altered Images,
Gang Starr,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Kaleidoscope,
Ralphi Rosario,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Skatalites,
Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics, Eurythmics.
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.