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 Turkmenistan and from Beijing.
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 1964 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 snare 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 Groovy Waters to the grime 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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All Monks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cluster record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Mummies,
Nik Kershaw,
PIL,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Tubeway Army,
Fluxion,
Sound Behaviour,
Country Teasers,
Altered Images,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Swans,
Scrapy,
The Grass Roots,
Quando Quango,
Urselle,
The Detroit Cobras,
Scientists,
Johnny Osbourne,
Crash Course in Science,
Cymande,
the Normal,
The Selecter,
Laurel Aitken,
Visage,
Joe Smooth,
Severed Heads,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Arab on Radar,
Monks,
Unwound,
The Moleskins,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Invisible,
U.S. Maple,
DJ Sneak,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Nation of Ulysses,
Patti Smith,
The Leaves,
Easy Going,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Harry Pussy,
Excepter,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Inner City,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Slits,
Masters at Work,
Niagra,
Henry Cow,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Piero Umiliani,
Chris & Cosey,
Arthur Verocai,
The Smiths,
Los Fastidios,
The Sound,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.