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 Haiti and from Portland.
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 1966 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lille and Portland.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bologna 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Scratch Acid to the rock kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Reagan Youth. All the underground hits.
All Whodini tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Magma record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 a linndrum and a harpsichord and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Hot Snakes,
Young Marble Giants,
Oblivians,
John Coltrane,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Mr. Review,
Blake Baxter,
Symarip,
Eden Ahbez,
Public Image Ltd.,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Wire,
Bill Near,
Aaron Thompson,
Aural Exciters,
Cybotron,
Spandau Ballet,
MDC,
Bauhaus,
Franke,
Sixth Finger,
The Moody Blues,
Robert Görl,
Soul II Soul,
Scratch Acid,
Fluxion,
Motorama,
Stereo Dub,
Joy Division,
Drexciya,
Eric B and Rakim,
Joensuu 1685,
Lou Reed,
These Immortal Souls,
Pussy Galore,
Massinfluence,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Trumans Water,
Lebanon Hanover,
Darondo,
Lungfish,
Judy Mowatt,
Crispy Ambulance,
Roy Ayers,
DJ Style,
Glenn Branca,
Sarah Menescal,
Max Romeo,
Charles Mingus,
Pylon,
Kurtis Blow,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Todd Rundgren,
Eyeless In Gaza,
DJ Sneak,
Dorothy Ashby,
Funky Four + One,
Arthur Verocai,
Newcleus,
Shoche,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Bobby Byrd,
Cal Tjader,
Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio, Maurizio.
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.