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 Papua New Guinea and from Taipei.
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 1960 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Beijing.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lille 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 Michael McDonald 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 Magma to the funk 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 The Blackbyrds. All the underground hits.
All ABBA tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wolf Eyes 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 a marimba and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Barbara Tucker record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
JFA,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Skaos,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Josef K,
David Bowie,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Durutti Column,
Rosa Yemen,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Matthew Halsall,
Intrusion,
Animal Collective,
Jerry's Kids,
Curtis Mayfield,
Deepchord,
UT,
Swans,
David McCallum,
Traffic Nightmare,
Kevin Saunderson,
Swell Maps,
Aloha Tigers,
The Smiths,
Pantytec,
These Immortal Souls,
Royal Trux,
Sexual Harrassment,
Banda Bassotti,
Amon Düül,
Terrestrial Tones,
Second Layer,
The Index,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Carl Craig,
Minny Pops,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
The Monochrome Set,
Derrick Morgan,
Spandau Ballet,
Aswad,
The Zeros,
The Toasters,
The Fugs,
Michelle Simonal,
Loose Ends,
Donald Byrd,
Q65,
Jawbox,
the Bar-Kays,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Siglo XX,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Lucky Dragons,
the Swans,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Interpol,
Porter Ricks,
Underground Resistance,
Bronski Beat,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Pylon, Pylon, Pylon, Pylon.
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.