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 Colombia and from Winnipeg.
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 1967 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Salvador and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 The Detroit Cobras to the dance 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 The Sisters of Mercy. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Television Personalities 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pagans,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Neil Young,
Jawbox,
The New Christs,
The Cure,
Absolute Body Control,
Altered Images,
Traffic Nightmare,
Yusef Lateef,
Supertramp,
Eurythmics,
Aloha Tigers,
Wings,
Kool Moe Dee,
H. Thieme,
David Axelrod,
the Slits,
the Germs,
Joy Division,
Shuggie Otis,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Barclay James Harvest,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Infiniti,
Junior Murvin,
The Fuzztones,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Tears for Fears,
Iggy Pop,
Mark Hollis,
Von Mondo,
Boredoms,
Sonny Sharrock,
Warren Ellis,
Sparks,
Model 500,
Depeche Mode,
Excepter,
Jeru the Damaja,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Bill Wells,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Birthday Party,
Connie Case,
Mad Mike,
F. McDonald,
Talk Talk,
Minny Pops,
Livin' Joy,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
David McCallum,
One Last Wish,
T.S.O.L.,
Ohio Players,
Fear,
Kayak,
Girls At Our Best!,
The Searchers,
The Cowsills,
Babytalk,
Interpol, Interpol, Interpol, Interpol.
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.