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 Marshall Islands and from Philadelphia.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 mellotron 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 The United States of America to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Hardrive. All the underground hits.
All Rahsaan Roland Kirk tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Talk Talk record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a theremin 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 snare and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Byrd,
Inner City,
John Lydon,
The Searchers,
Barrington Levy,
Monolake,
Magma,
The Monochrome Set,
DJ Style,
Sugar Minott,
Bauhaus,
Man Eating Sloth,
X-Ray Spex,
OOIOO,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
The Fortunes,
Robert Hood,
The Divine Comedy,
The Pop Group,
In Retrospect,
Ultra Naté,
Matthew Bourne,
The Dave Clark Five,
Panda Bear,
Intrusion,
MC5,
Johnny Clarke,
Colin Newman,
Wings,
Camouflage,
Henry Cow,
the Human League,
The Gun Club,
Chris & Cosey,
Aloha Tigers,
The Offenders,
Icehouse,
Byron Stingily,
Lyres,
Nas,
Kool Moe Dee,
Dual Sessions,
a-ha,
Public Enemy,
Max Romeo,
Patti Smith,
Throbbing Gristle,
Godley & Creme,
Main Source,
Lou Reed,
the Soft Cell,
Q65,
Wally Richardson,
Whodini,
Brothers Johnson,
Rekid,
Harry Pussy,
Mo-Dettes,
Marc Almond,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Jimmy McGriff,
Ralphi Rosario,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
The Monks, The Monks, The Monks, The Monks.
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.