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 Swaziland and from Madrid.
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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Seoul.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 harpsichord 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 Masters at Work to the rap 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 John Cale. All the underground hits.
All Sixth Finger tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Harry Pussy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal crunk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Vainqueur record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Procol Harum,
Drexciya,
Barbara Tucker,
Nirvana,
Bobby Sherman,
Lalo Schifrin,
CMW,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
The Star Department,
The Dirtbombs,
The Young Rascals,
Mad Mike,
Chrome,
Johnny Osbourne,
Camouflage,
Sugar Minott,
The Monks,
F. McDonald,
Sister Nancy,
Curtis Mayfield,
Boz Scaggs,
Glenn Branca,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
Gang Gang Dance,
Gil Scott Heron,
Lee Hazlewood,
Hashim,
Avey Tare,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Stetsasonic,
H. Thieme,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Soulsonic Force,
Grauzone,
The Tremeloes,
Shoche,
Pussy Galore,
K-Klass,
8 Eyed Spy,
John Foxx,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Dawn Penn,
Throbbing Gristle,
Jimmy McGriff,
T. Rex,
Funkadelic,
The Count Five,
June Days,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Lou Reed,
Anthony Braxton,
Barry Ungar,
Erasure,
Easy Going,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Theoretical Girls,
Accadde A,
Wings,
The Black Dice,
Guru Guru,
The Standells,
Unwound, Unwound, Unwound, Unwound.
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.