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 Vietnam and from Hong Kong.
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 1969 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Salvador.
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 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 Robert Palmer 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 Marc Almond to the techno 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 Lebanon Hanover. All the underground hits.
All Severed Heads tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Fat Boys 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 '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Crash Course in Science record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your synthesizer and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a synthesizer.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Swell Maps,
AZ,
Bill Near,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Siglo XX,
Clear Light,
Wolf Eyes,
Sixth Finger,
The Velvet Underground,
John Foxx,
The Raincoats,
Black Flag,
Aloha Tigers,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Patti Smith,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Ohio Players,
Danielle Patucci,
cv313,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Jawbox,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
a-ha,
Barbara Tucker,
R.M.O.,
Roy Ayers,
Yusef Lateef,
The Mummies,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Spoonie Gee,
The Sound,
The Residents,
Brass Construction,
Jacob Miller,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Monolake,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
The Neon Judgement,
Mark Hollis,
Carl Craig,
Depeche Mode,
the Slits,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Delta 5,
Youth Brigade,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Newcleus,
Procol Harum,
Scrapy,
Harpers Bizarre,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Zero Boys,
Notorious BIG live in Amsterdam,
Lebanon Hanover,
Roxy Music,
Make Up,
Joyce Sims,
The Slits,
Arthur Verocai,
June Days,
The Tremeloes,
Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani, Piero Umiliani.
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.