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 Germany and from Bologna.
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 1969 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Calgary 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 mellotron sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Blossom Toes to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Wings. All the underground hits.
All Ponytail tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bad Manners record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime 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 linndrum and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Major Organ And The Adding Machine record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Litter,
Harry Pussy,
Thee Headcoats,
Eve St. Jones,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Fortunes,
Malaria!,
Rhythm & Sound,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Crispy Ambulance,
Soft Cell,
John Cale,
Ossler,
Amon Düül II,
Nils Olav,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Amazonics,
Erykah Badu,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
The Index,
Wasted Youth,
Rekid,
Susan Cadogan,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Nik Kershaw,
Letta Mbulu,
Pantytec,
The Red Krayola,
Cybotron,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
David Axelrod,
Tres Demented,
Tears for Fears,
The Gun Club,
Throbbing Gristle,
PIL,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Quantec,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Evens,
Scan 7,
AZ,
Barry Ungar,
Wolf Eyes,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Siglo XX,
Severed Heads,
Maleditus Sound,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Desert Stars,
Shuggie Otis,
Brass Construction,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Alison Limerick,
Soul II Soul,
Clear Light,
Johnny Osbourne,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Jacob Miller,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Fear,
Ralphi Rosario,
Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters, Stockholm Monsters.
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.