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 Sri Lanka and from Spokane.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 organ 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 Thinking Fellers Union Local 282 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 The Dirtbombs. All the underground hits.
All Warsaw tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Qualms record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kas Product record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a synthesizer.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The American Breed,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Scratch Acid,
Hoover,
Cheater Slicks,
Dark Day,
Newcleus,
Angry Samoans,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Barry Ungar,
Gregory Isaacs,
Donny Hathaway,
The Searchers,
Fela Kuti,
Outsiders,
The Doors,
Erykah Badu,
Banda Bassotti,
Yaz,
Animal Collective,
The Remains,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Slave,
The Gun Club,
Barbara Tucker,
Harry Pussy,
Todd Terry,
Darondo,
Jacob Miller,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Jeff Lynne,
The Martian,
Wings,
Skarface,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Minor Threat,
Rhythm & Sound,
Wolf Eyes,
Glenn Branca,
The Raincoats,
Moss Icon,
MC5,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Flipper,
Bill Wells,
Delta 5,
The Mummies,
Audionom,
Procol Harum,
Thee Headcoats,
These Immortal Souls,
Q65,
the Association,
Hot Snakes,
Tommy Roe,
Cluster,
JFA,
the Bar-Kays,
Lower 48,
Neu!,
Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears, Tears for Fears.
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.