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 Tanzania and from Stockholm.
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 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Sao Paulo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lyon 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 Holger Czukay 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 Names to the crunk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Fania All-Stars. All the underground hits.
All Radiohead tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Blossom Toes 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 '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Kayak record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Quantec,
Monks,
Anakelly,
Surgeon,
Aswad,
Drive Like Jehu,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Lou Christie,
the Swans,
Sunsets and Hearts,
L. Decosne,
Cluster,
The Human League,
Pere Ubu,
Rhythm & Sound,
Gichy Dan,
Dave Gahan,
Gang of Four,
Lindisfarne,
Soulsonic Force,
John Holt,
Faraquet,
Adolescents,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Litter,
Alison Limerick,
Eric Dolphy,
Mars,
Graham Central Station,
Sonny Sharrock,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
The Victims,
Marc Almond,
Robert Hood,
The Red Krayola,
Minnie Riperton,
The Fortunes,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Heaven 17,
Index,
Frankie Knuckles,
Fad Gadget,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Letta Mbulu,
Quadrant,
Chrome,
Terrestrial Tones,
Ohio Players,
June of 44,
Supertramp,
Jerry's Kids,
Boogie Down Productions,
The Five Americans,
Crime,
Von Mondo,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Royal Trux,
Sun City Girls,
The Motions,
Circle Jerks,
Hoover,
Lalann,
Crispy Ambulance,
Skaos, Skaos, Skaos, Skaos.
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.