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 Brunei and from Sao Paulo.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Copenhagen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 oboe 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 Gichy Dan to the electroclash 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 Easy Going. All the underground hits.
All AZ tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lizzy Mercier Descloux record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cameo,
Derrick May,
The Smoke,
X-101,
the Germs,
Mission of Burma,
Neil Young,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Fuzztones,
The Misunderstood,
Skarface,
Negative Approach,
Chris & Cosey,
Schoolly D,
MDC,
Suicide,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Ice-T,
Bad Manners,
Motorama,
Sly & The Family Stone,
The Kinks,
Alton Ellis,
Kayak,
Amazonics,
Malaria!,
Silicon Teens,
Youth Brigade,
Pulsallama,
CMW,
Juan Atkins,
Eric B and Rakim,
The Knickerbockers,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Sex Pistols,
Jeff Lynne,
Tropical Tobacco,
Warren Ellis,
Monolake,
Slick Rick,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Kool Moe Dee,
Gastr Del Sol,
Howard Jones,
Ludus,
Todd Terry,
The Slackers,
Big Daddy Kane,
The Gories,
Chris Corsano,
Y Pants,
Bang On A Can,
Fela Kuti,
Inner City,
Andrew Hill,
Nirvana,
Grauzone,
The Leaves,
Aloha Tigers,
David Bowie,
The Slits,
Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin, Junior Murvin.
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.