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 Argentina and from Houston.
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 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Seoul and Manchester.
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 mellotron 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 Rapeman to the electroclash 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 Dave Gahan. All the underground hits.
All Metal Thangz tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Wake record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vladislav Delay record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a chamberlin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Deepchord,
The Tremeloes,
Connie Case,
The Star Department,
Inner City,
Judy Mowatt,
Amon Düül II,
Trumans Water,
Todd Terry,
The Monochrome Set,
Matthew Halsall,
Barrington Levy,
Moebius,
Altered Images,
Roxy Music,
The Black Dice,
Das Ding,
Icehouse,
JFA,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
the Sonics,
Guru Guru,
Sexual Harrassment,
Thee Headcoats,
Angry Samoans,
Lucky Dragons,
Roy Ayers,
Electric Prunes,
Bauhaus,
T.S.O.L.,
Lakeside,
Massinfluence,
Rhythm & Sound,
Lee Hazlewood,
Blossom Toes,
Alton Ellis,
Brothers Johnson,
FM Einheit,
Gichy Dan,
Supertramp,
Chris Corsano,
Nik Kershaw,
The Monks,
Ultra Naté,
Lungfish,
Curtis Mayfield,
Warren Ellis,
Accadde A,
The Skatalites,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Audionom,
Matthew Bourne,
Marine Girls,
Delon & Dalcan,
Banda Bassotti,
Delta 5,
Joey Negro,
the Human League,
Byron Stingily,
Niagra,
Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins, Bootsy Collins.
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.