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 Malaysia and from Woodstock.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Glasgow and Lille.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Leaves to the rap 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 Moby Grape. All the underground hits.
All Kerrie Biddell tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bizarre Inc. record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Terror Squad Feat. Camron record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an oboe.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Radio Birdman,
Flamin' Groovies,
Schoolly D,
Rites of Spring,
Chrome,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Arthur Verocai,
London Community Gospel Choir,
The Associates,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Brass Construction,
Can,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Bootsy Collins,
Oblivians,
The Music Machine,
KRS-One,
Leonard Cohen,
Banda Bassotti,
Wings,
David McCallum,
Robert Wyatt,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Big Daddy Kane,
a-ha,
The Stooges,
Symarip,
Neu!,
The Durutti Column,
Amon Düül,
Lakeside,
Danielle Patucci,
Frankie Knuckles,
The Sonics,
Terry Callier,
Magma,
Section 25,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Gang of Four,
Jacques Brel,
The Fortunes,
Fatback Band,
Sarah Menescal,
The Neon Judgement,
Todd Terry,
Audionom,
Livin' Joy,
Suicide,
Qualms,
Andrew Hill,
Rosa Yemen,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Lucky Dragons,
The Divine Comedy,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
Electric Prunes,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Alarm Clocks,
Reagan Youth,
The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground, The Velvet Underground.
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.