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 Sudan and from Sao Paulo.
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 1960 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lagos and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 linndrum 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 The Alarm Clocks to the rap 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 Jeff Lynne. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bobby Womack record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a güiro and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Todd Terry record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Accadde A,
Bobby Sherman,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Gastr Del Sol,
Yazoo,
Drive Like Jehu,
The Beau Brummels,
Tres Demented,
The Fire Engines,
Freddie Wadling,
Maleditus Sound,
Glenn Branca,
Unwound,
Sparks,
Soft Cell,
One Last Wish,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Gong,
Mad Mike,
Gil Scott Heron,
Mission of Burma,
Marvin Gaye,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Jerry's Kids,
Robert Hood,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Ultra Naté,
Make Up,
The Kinks,
Mr. Review,
Underground Resistance,
Pylon,
Barry Ungar,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
John Holt,
Chris & Cosey,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Henry Cow,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Harry Pussy,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Lakeside,
La Düsseldorf,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
Hasil Adkins,
10cc,
Theoretical Girls,
B.T. Express,
Brass Construction,
Los Fastidios,
The Tremeloes,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Avey Tare,
the Normal,
Japan,
James White and The Blacks,
The Litter,
Unrelated Segments,
Bauhaus,
Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster, Ronnie Foster.
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.