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 Laos 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 1964 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Charles Mingus to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Monks. All the underground hits.
All Subhumans tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every D'Angelo 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Fugazi,
Lindisfarne,
Lucky Dragons,
Amon Düül II,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Fluxion,
Can,
Porter Ricks,
The Raincoats,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Thompson Twins,
Delon & Dalcan,
Sun City Girls,
Graham Central Station,
Clear Light,
Procol Harum,
Popol Vuh,
Stiv Bators,
Amazonics,
The Slackers,
Wire,
Index,
Pere Ubu,
Easy Going,
Grandmaster Flash,
Sandy B,
Susan Cadogan,
LL Cool J,
Danielle Patucci,
The Zeros,
Suicide,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Camouflage,
Half Japanese,
Sixth Finger,
Minny Pops,
Tubeway Army,
Country Teasers,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Detroit Cobras,
A Certain Ratio,
Johnny Clarke,
Agitation Free,
John Foxx,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Sex Pistols,
ABC,
Kaleidoscope,
Intrusion,
Judy Mowatt,
Radiohead,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Glambeats Corp.,
Niagra,
The Doors,
Prince Buster,
Avey Tare,
Gong,
Moebius,
Harpers Bizarre,
Neil Young,
H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme, H. Thieme.
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.