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 Montenegro and from Columbus.
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 1969 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Bremen.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 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 Youth Brigade to the disco kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 London Community Gospel Choir. All the underground hits.
All Ludus tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Echospace 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 '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Lou Christie,
Man Parrish,
Matthew Bourne,
X-Ray Spex,
Average White Band,
Parry Music,
Maurizio,
Glambeats Corp.,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Dirtbombs,
Minny Pops,
Simply Red,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
The Blackbyrds,
Television Personalities,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Sugar Minott,
Youth Brigade,
The Busters,
Moebius,
Matthew Halsall,
The Barracudas,
Nation of Ulysses,
Brand Nubian,
Soulsonic Force,
Alison Limerick,
Darondo,
DJ Sneak,
The Evens,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Knickerbockers,
Sparks,
Mantronix,
Juan Atkins,
F. McDonald,
Dawn Penn,
Zapp,
Brick,
Spoonie Gee,
The Gun Club,
Fad Gadget,
the Normal,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Main Source,
Terrestrial Tones,
Steve Hackett,
Lyres,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Excepter,
Jandek,
Smog,
Robert Hood,
Royal Trux,
Pantytec,
The Offenders,
FM Einheit,
One Last Wish,
Ten City,
The Remains,
Jeru the Damaja,
Sight & Sound,
Connie Case,
Babytalk,
Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown, Dennis Brown.
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.