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 Hungary 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 1962 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Milan and Philadelphia.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane 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 güiro 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 The Electric Prunes to the grunge kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Babytalk. All the underground hits.
All Heavy D & The Boyz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every DNA 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Beasts of Bourbon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a spring reverb.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Liliput,
Radio Birdman,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
John Cale,
The Smiths,
Traffic Nightmare,
the Human League,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gastr Del Sol,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Little Man,
X-102,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rites of Spring,
Soul Sonic Force,
Bronski Beat,
Chrome,
Zero Boys,
the Germs,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Beau Brummels,
Infiniti,
The Buckinghams,
Gang of Four,
Radiohead,
The Happenings,
Electric Prunes,
Lucky Dragons,
Robert Görl,
The Evens,
Visage,
Rapeman,
The Names,
Urselle,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Stiv Bators,
Faust,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
Gil Scott Heron,
Scott Walker,
Mary Jane Girls,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Black Dice,
Stetsasonic,
Kas Product,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Ludus,
Lindisfarne,
John Foxx,
Jawbox,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Crime,
The Move,
Juan Atkins,
Flash Fearless,
Jandek,
Brothers Johnson,
Whodini,
Circle Jerks,
The Misunderstood,
Ronan,
Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities, Television Personalities.
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.