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 Swaziland and from Mumbai.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lagos.
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 oboe 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 Sam Rivers to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Flesh Eaters. All the underground hits.
All The Standells tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Susan Cadogan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aswad record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Glenn Branca,
Parry Music,
Underground Resistance,
Gichy Dan,
Albert Ayler,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Maleditus Sound,
The Doors,
Infiniti,
Pole,
Nas,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Sixth Finger,
Fatback Band,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Motorama,
Throbbing Gristle,
Johnny Osbourne,
Reagan Youth,
Don Cherry,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
X-102,
Ornette Coleman,
Eddi Front,
June Days,
Lebanon Hanover,
It's A Beautiful Day,
FM Einheit,
a-ha,
Grauzone,
Avey Tare,
The Vogues,
Joe Smooth,
The Kinks,
Youth Brigade,
Gang of Four,
Arab on Radar,
Dawn Penn,
The Knickerbockers,
Crooked Eye,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Simply Red,
Pulsallama,
Boredoms,
Skaos,
Duran Duran,
The Angels of Light,
Spoonie Gee,
Basic Channel,
F. McDonald,
The Real Kids,
Eden Ahbez,
Pet Shop Boys,
Mandrill,
Bronski Beat,
Flash Fearless,
Main Source,
Camouflage,
Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work, Masters at Work.
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.