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 Libya and from Tehran.
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 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tehran 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 1987 at the first Nirvana practice in a loft in Seattle.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Gil Scott Heron to the techno 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 Ohio Players. All the underground hits.
All The Misunderstood tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scratch Acid 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deakin,
Scrapy,
The Barracudas,
Henry Cow,
Technova,
Amon Düül,
Cheater Slicks,
Joey Negro,
The Detroit Cobras,
Eric Dolphy,
Gerry Rafferty,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Brand Nubian,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Mantronix,
Lower 48,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Bobby Sherman,
Dorothy Ashby,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Harry Pussy,
Wire,
Suburban Knight,
The Star Department,
Cluster,
X-102,
F. McDonald,
Anakelly,
Jacob Miller,
Rod Modell,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Don Cherry,
The Angels of Light,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Grass Roots,
Gabor Szabo,
Grandmaster Flash,
The Tremeloes,
Nico,
Barrington Levy,
The Alarm Clocks,
Bobby Byrd,
Sex Pistols,
Second Layer,
U.S. Maple,
Magazine,
Amazonics,
Deepchord,
Avey Tare,
The Durutti Column,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Crispian St. Peters,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Joyce Sims,
Jerry's Kids,
Susan Cadogan,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Flash Fearless,
Buzzcocks,
Alphaville,
Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci, Danielle Patucci.
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.