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 South Africa and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 1984.
I was there at the first Arcadia 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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Jakarta 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 arpeggiator 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 Danielle Patucci to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 The Searchers. All the underground hits.
All The Cure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Alison Limerick 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mark Hollis,
The Litter,
Babytalk,
Toni Rubio,
Minny Pops,
Tubeway Army,
The Slits,
The Kinks,
EPMD,
Danielle Patucci,
Grauzone,
Throbbing Gristle,
Electric Prunes,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Amon Düül,
Brothers Johnson,
Marmalade,
Quantec,
Soft Machine,
Slave,
Minutemen,
Sam Rivers,
Bauhaus,
The Human League,
Deepchord,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
the Bar-Kays,
Curtis Mayfield,
Oblivians,
Girls At Our Best!,
Bill Wells,
Cluster,
Leonard Cohen,
Fugazi,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Johnny Osbourne,
Jerry's Kids,
Outsiders,
Neil Young,
Manfred Mann's Earth Band,
ABBA,
Ash Ra Tempel,
The Cowsills,
JFA,
Joe Smooth,
R.M.O.,
Iggy Pop,
Scratch Acid,
Masters at Work,
Pere Ubu,
F. McDonald,
Public Enemy,
The Toasters,
Parry Music,
The Birthday Party,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Roger Hodgson,
Make Up,
The Gladiators,
New Order,
The Last Poets,
Smog,
Essential Logic,
Pantaleimon,
Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry, Peter and Kerry.
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.