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 Panama and from Cairo.
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 1969 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Bologna.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 Holger Czukay 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 Modern Lovers to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Sight & Sound. All the underground hits.
All Brass Construction tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Wings record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 clarinet and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Johnny Clarke record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Cramps,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
The Young Rascals,
Rekid,
Whodini,
Lyres,
The Cure,
Zapp,
B.T. Express,
Barclay James Harvest,
Bang On A Can,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Connie Case,
Nirvana,
Todd Rundgren,
Curtis Mayfield,
Cal Tjader,
Jerry's Kids,
Aswad,
Wolf Eyes,
The Misunderstood,
New Age Steppers,
Dual Sessions,
Talk Talk,
Mo-Dettes,
The Doobie Brothers,
Goldenarms,
Kurtis Blow,
PIL,
The Wake,
Gastr Del Sol,
Anakelly,
Bill Near,
Ossler,
Pagans,
Crispian St. Peters,
Barry Ungar,
Ludus,
Ronnie Foster,
The Smiths,
Oblivians,
The Index,
The Mummies,
Magazine,
Warren Ellis,
The Flesh Eaters,
Gong,
Morten Harket,
Grandmaster Flash,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Eurythmics,
Masters at Work,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Ultravox,
Marcia Griffiths,
Swans,
Franke,
Cheater Slicks,
the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars, the Fania All-Stars.
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.