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 Oman and from Copenhagen.
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 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Beijing 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 1967 at the first Rodriguez practice in a loft in Detroit.
I was working on the sitar 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 Throbbing Gristle to the techno kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 In Retrospect. All the underground hits.
All The Electric Prunes tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Thompson Twins record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Scientists record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Royal Trux,
Donald Byrd,
D'Angelo,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Roy Ayers,
Oppenheimer Analysis,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Soul Sonic Force,
Rites of Spring,
Barrington Levy,
Cecil Taylor,
the Soft Cell,
Todd Terry,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Clear Light,
Morten Harket,
Subhumans,
Marcia Griffiths,
ABC,
Big Daddy Kane,
Bob Dylan,
Juan Atkins,
Groovy Waters,
Bauhaus,
Charles Mingus,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Agitation Free,
Ronan,
cv313,
the Bar-Kays,
Sun City Girls,
Nirvana,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
the Swans,
Camberwell Now,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Justin Hinds & The Dominoes,
The United States of America,
Lightning Bolt,
Eric Copeland,
Quantec,
Isaac Hayes,
Wasted Youth,
The Cramps,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Yazoo,
Silicon Teens,
This Heat,
Lou Christie,
Minutemen,
Johnny Clarke,
The Motions,
A Certain Ratio,
Bill Wells,
Hoover,
The Mojo Men,
Jeru the Damaja,
Chris & Cosey,
Boredoms,
Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne, Lindisfarne.
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.