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 Costa Rica and from London.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1978 at the first Visage practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the chamberlin 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 Unwound to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Scion. All the underground hits.
All Funkadelic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DJ Sneak record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash 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 a theremin and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Connie Case,
the Slits,
Deakin,
Flash Fearless,
Thompson Twins,
The Modern Lovers,
Severed Heads,
Scott Walker,
Deepchord,
L. Decosne,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sixth Finger,
Circle Jerks,
Groovy Waters,
Radiohead,
48th St. Collective,
Graham Central Station,
Eric Dolphy,
Half Japanese,
Marcia Griffiths,
Ronnie Foster,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
The Seeds,
Porter Ricks,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Soul II Soul,
John Foxx,
Lalo Schifrin,
Todd Terry,
Black Moon,
Girls At Our Best!,
Agent Orange,
Sällskapet,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Pulsallama,
Robert Hood,
Lindisfarne,
The Real Kids,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Procol Harum,
U.S. Maple,
Sparks,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Au Pairs,
Maleditus Sound,
Quadrant,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Zapp,
Scratch Acid,
Reuben Wilson,
Byron Stingily,
The Count Five,
Metal Thangz,
cv313,
Flamin' Groovies,
Bad Manners,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Maurizio,
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.