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 Benin and from Lagos.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gastr Del Sol 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 Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks. All the underground hits.
All The Stooges tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every the Normal record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Coltrane,
John Lydon,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Ultimate Spinach,
New York Dolls,
Yellowson,
K-Klass,
Ossler,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Banda Bassotti,
The Dirtbombs,
Bizarre Inc.,
Rites of Spring,
Gichy Dan,
Unwound,
The Wake,
Delta 5,
The Smiths,
Robert Wyatt,
Ken Boothe,
It's A Beautiful Day,
This Heat,
Television Personalities,
Monks,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
the Fania All-Stars,
Hoover,
Slave,
Connie Case,
Soft Cell,
Black Flag,
Black Sheep,
Barbara Tucker,
Mary Jane Girls,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Von Mondo,
Peter & Gordon,
Pere Ubu,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Eve St. Jones,
Au Pairs,
Lalo Schifrin,
Fela Kuti,
The Tremeloes,
Electric Prunes,
Chrome,
Kayak,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Pole,
OOIOO,
Al Stewart,
Marcia Griffiths,
Man Parrish,
Marshall Jefferson,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Alton Ellis,
Agitation Free,
The Fall,
Glambeats Corp.,
Terrestrial Tones,
Crispian St. Peters,
Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs, Gregory Isaacs.
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.