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 Mexico and from Edmonton.
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 1969 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Tehran and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Tokyo 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 marimba 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 Inner City to the jazz 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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Joy Division tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Slackers record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cymande record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Music Machine,
Steve Hackett,
Lou Reed,
The Busters,
The Gap Band,
Subhumans,
Rakim,
Lucky Dragons,
Dead Boys,
Radio Birdman,
Shoche,
Joe Smooth,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Skaos,
Alphaville,
Prince Buster,
Livin' Joy,
Chrome,
Aaron Thompson,
Television Personalities,
Anthony Braxton,
The Mummies,
Erasure,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Hardrive,
Cameo,
The Smoke,
F. McDonald,
Amon Düül II,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Malaria!,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Davy DMX,
Magazine,
X-101,
Sun City Girls,
Kool Moe Dee,
Ornette Coleman,
John Coltrane,
Eddi Front,
The Blackbyrds,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Scott Walker,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Babytalk,
Public Image Ltd.,
Heaven 17,
Marshall Jefferson,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Danielle Patucci,
The Mojo Men,
Radiopuhelimet,
The Electric Prunes,
Ronnie Foster,
Youth Brigade,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
The Evens,
Gang Starr,
Minny Pops,
Simply Red,
Tomorrow,
The Shadows of Knight,
Blossom Toes,
Swans, Swans, Swans, Swans.
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.