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 Chad and from Philadelphia.
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 1968 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Gun Club to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Ralphi Rosario. All the underground hits.
All Jerry Gold Smith tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Mark Hollis 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an organ and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Ultramagnetic MC's record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
T. Rex,
EPMD,
Ohio Players,
Iggy Pop,
Electric Prunes,
Negative Approach,
Dave Gahan,
Boredoms,
Bang On A Can,
Interpol,
The Trojans,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
The Selecter,
Minutemen,
Darondo,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Don Cherry,
Metal Thangz,
Liliput,
Pet Shop Boys,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Marcia Griffiths,
U.S. Maple,
The Young Rascals,
E-Dancer,
Derrick May,
Black Pus,
Massinfluence,
Radiohead,
Morten Harket,
Eric B and Rakim,
Kool Moe Dee,
Mr. Review,
Deepchord,
Chris Corsano,
Soft Machine,
Television,
Absolute Body Control,
Black Sheep,
Pulsallama,
Pylon,
Suicide,
Parry Music,
Electric Light Orchestra,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Ornette Coleman,
The Gladiators,
The Saints,
Barry Ungar,
The Gories,
Ludus,
Sun City Girls,
John Holt,
Stetsasonic,
La Düsseldorf,
Lou Christie,
Buzzcocks,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Minny Pops,
Aswad,
Kayak,
The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines, The Fire Engines.
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.