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 Bahamas and from Mexico City.
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 1961 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Shanghai and Edmonton.
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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Joey Negro to the punk kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Oneida. All the underground hits.
All Erasure tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Cheater Slicks 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Severed Heads,
Gichy Dan,
A Certain Ratio,
Robert Görl,
Vladislav Delay,
Don Cherry,
Jimmy McGriff,
Echospace,
Joe Smooth,
Fad Gadget,
Ultra Naté,
The J.B.'s,
Ronnie Foster,
Masters at Work,
The Mighty Diamonds,
the Slits,
Main Source,
Marvin Gaye,
LL Cool J,
Lyres,
Faraquet,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Eddi Front,
Yusef Lateef,
Scratch Acid,
the Association,
Maleditus Sound,
Davy DMX,
Blancmange,
The Angels of Light,
Kerri Chandler,
Clear Light,
Terrestrial Tones,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Alphaville,
UT,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Bang On A Can,
Urselle,
Aural Exciters,
Junior Murvin,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Q and Not U,
Country Teasers,
Animal Collective,
Circle Jerks,
Sound Behaviour,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Nik Kershaw,
Mary Jane Girls,
Pierre Henry,
DNA,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Stiv Bators,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Man Eating Sloth,
Avey Tare,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Tremeloes,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman, Radio Birdman.
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.