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 Iran and from Jakarta.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the snare 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 Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Bootsy Collins. All the underground hits.
All James White and The Blacks tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Grey Daturas record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 synthesizer and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Fear record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bronski Beat,
Terry Callier,
Harry Pussy,
Zero Boys,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Accadde A,
Fugazi,
Eurythmics,
Deepchord,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Gang Starr,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Kurtis Blow,
Boz Scaggs,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
The Red Krayola,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Echospace,
Jeru the Damaja,
Marc Almond,
Flash Fearless,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Fuzztones,
Nils Olav,
Franke,
PIL,
Jandek,
The Neon Judgement,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
Livin' Joy,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Chris & Cosey,
Archie Shepp,
Country Teasers,
Talk Talk,
Gang Green,
Animal Collective,
Max Romeo,
Jawbox,
Hashim,
Skarface,
Camouflage,
The Remains,
Robert Hood,
T.S.O.L.,
The Raincoats,
Suicide,
MDC,
The Fire Engines,
Soft Machine,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Television,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
The Buckinghams,
Colin Newman,
The Offenders,
Eric B and Rakim,
Piero Umiliani,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Gichy Dan,
The Detroit Cobras,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
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.