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 Lesotho and from Lille.
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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Milan 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 snare 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 Howard Jones to the disco kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All PIL tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Remains record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a spring reverb and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a AZ record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a linndrum.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Red Krayola,
The Divine Comedy,
Mandrill,
Spandau Ballet,
These Immortal Souls,
Camberwell Now,
The Litter,
Drexciya,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Minny Pops,
the Bar-Kays,
Bang On A Can,
Angry Samoans,
Judy Mowatt,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Monks,
Lakeside,
Depeche Mode,
Hardrive,
Scion,
Glenn Branca,
Visionaries,LMNO, T- Love & Iriscience,
Fear,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Fela Kuti,
Index,
The Victims,
Ronnie Foster,
The Cowsills,
The Black Dice,
Anthony Braxton,
Mr. Review,
Nirvana,
The Raincoats,
The Wake,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Clear Light,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Los Fastidios,
Saccharine Trust,
Country Teasers,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
The Human League,
Section 25,
John Foxx,
Derrick Morgan,
Alphaville,
Make Up,
Marcia Griffiths,
10cc,
Maleditus Sound,
Man Parrish,
Faust,
Bill Near,
Reagan Youth,
Terrestrial Tones,
The Golliwogs,
Blancmange,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gang Starr,
Junior Murvin,
T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L., T.S.O.L..
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.