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 Iraq and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
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 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Jakarta.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the güiro 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 Bronski Beat to the techno kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 DeepChord presents Echospace. All the underground hits.
All Chrome tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cameo 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 sitar and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Chris & Cosey record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
Brothers Johnson,
Franke,
Joensuu 1685,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Juan Atkins,
48th St. Collective,
John Coltrane,
Scrapy,
The Cure,
The Real Kids,
Mantronix,
Yellowson,
The Techniques,
Terrestrial Tones,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
The Seeds,
Crispian St. Peters,
Carl Craig,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Young Marble Giants,
Fear,
The New Christs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Wings,
Bluetip,
Sex Pistols,
Los Fastidios,
Chris Corsano,
Glenn Branca,
Flash Fearless,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Mad Mike,
Audionom,
Blake Baxter,
Spoonie Gee,
Japan,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Skaos,
The Velvet Underground,
Wally Richardson,
Suburban Knight,
The Electric Prunes,
The Fortunes,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
David Bowie,
Pulsallama,
Ornette Coleman,
Bob Dylan,
Lower 48,
Panda Bear,
Delta 5,
Moebius,
Scion,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Intrusion,
Grandmaster Flash,
Con Funk Shun,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.