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 Grenada and from Seoul.
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 1965 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm 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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the sitar 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 Sonny Sharrock to the dance kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Lucky Dragons. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cecil Taylor record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an oboe and a güiro and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Jeru the Damaja record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Slackers,
Terry Callier,
Black Pus,
Laurel Aitken,
Japan,
The Selecter,
Scientists,
Essential Logic,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Gregory Isaacs,
The Flesh Eaters,
Danielle Patucci,
Country Joe & The Fish,
The Detroit Cobras,
Shoche,
Prince Buster,
Interpol,
Dennis Brown,
Technova,
The Offenders,
Nik Kershaw,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The United States of America,
Skaos,
Goldenarms,
Cheater Slicks,
Whodini,
the Normal,
Bob Dylan,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Joy Division,
Jeru the Damaja,
Faust,
Amazonics,
Siglo XX,
Icehouse,
The Doobie Brothers,
Davy DMX,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Faraquet,
The Young Rascals,
Funkadelic,
Grey Daturas,
Kerri Chandler,
Dark Day,
K-Klass,
Eden Ahbez,
The Grass Roots,
Con Funk Shun,
a-ha,
Ice-T,
Graham Central Station,
The Sound,
Dead Boys,
Scratch Acid,
Crispy Ambulance,
Youth Brigade,
Wasted Youth,
Neu!,
Tres Demented,
Audionom, Audionom, Audionom, Audionom.
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.