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 Kosovo and from Toronto.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Portland and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 David Bowie 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 Scott Walker to the grime 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 Heavy D & The Boyz. All the underground hits.
All Silicon Teens tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Flash Fearless record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marvin Gaye record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mr. Review,
The Selecter,
Big Daddy Kane,
Yusef Lateef,
Mark Hollis,
Reagan Youth,
Spoonie Gee,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobby Womack,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Ralphi Rosario,
Bobby Sherman,
Supertramp,
In Retrospect,
Barry Ungar,
Skaos,
Swell Maps,
La Düsseldorf,
Stetsasonic,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Fad Gadget,
Duran Duran,
The Count Five,
The Human League,
Oblivians,
UT,
The Tremeloes,
Robert Görl,
Sällskapet,
Tubeway Army,
Gichy Dan,
X-101,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Johnny Osbourne,
The Seeds,
MC5,
Model 500,
Fela Kuti,
The Fuzztones,
Gang Green,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Animal Collective,
Harry Pussy,
The Sound,
Nation of Ulysses,
cv313,
the Bar-Kays,
Don Cherry,
Shoche,
Lower 48,
Zero Boys,
Man Eating Sloth,
Bush Tetras,
John Cale,
Underground Resistance,
The Young Rascals,
Idris Muhammad,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
the Soft Cell,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus, Black Pus.
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.