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 Iraq and from Mexico City.
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 1962 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 chamberlin 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 Sandy B to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Mandrill. All the underground hits.
All Electric Light Orchestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Absolute Body Control record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 an organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hasil Adkins,
Soul Sonic Force,
Yaz,
Visage,
Rosa Yemen,
The Leaves,
The Flesh Eaters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
John Coltrane,
Amon Düül II,
Iggy Pop,
Dave Gahan,
Kas Product,
The Sound,
Max Romeo,
Rufus Thomas,
The Slits,
JFA,
Deepchord,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Sixth Finger,
Saccharine Trust,
Tears for Fears,
Junior Murvin,
The Angels of Light,
The Modern Lovers,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Easy Going,
The Durutti Column,
The Names,
Joy Division,
The Saints,
Eli Mardock,
Lalo Schifrin,
Trumans Water,
Patti Smith,
One Last Wish,
Idris Muhammad,
Organ,
Animal Collective,
Magma,
The Trojans,
Freddie Wadling,
The Martian,
Scion,
Lee Hazlewood,
Graham Central Station,
Black Bananas,
The Detroit Cobras,
ABC,
Derrick Morgan,
The Index,
The Dave Clark Five,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Michelle Simonal,
Procol Harum,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Roger Hodgson,
H. Thieme,
Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy, Scrapy.
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.