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 Cape Verde and from Salvador.
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 1964 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Nile Rodgers 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 Liaisons Dangereuses to the funk 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 Pagans. All the underground hits.
All The Smiths tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Gang Gang Dance record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Frankie Knuckles record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Move,
Faust,
Warren Ellis,
Popol Vuh,
Rekid,
Andrew Hill,
Godley & Creme,
Ultra Naté,
The Smoke,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Drive Like Jehu,
Soul Sonic Force,
Technova,
Circle Jerks,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
La Düsseldorf,
MC5,
The Index,
The Gun Club,
Ten City,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Andrew Ashong & Theo Parrish,
Deakin,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Mary Jane Girls,
Sparks,
Al Stewart,
Infiniti,
Chris & Cosey,
Arcadia,
Danielle Patucci,
The Knickerbockers,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Star Department,
Terry Callier,
The Dave Clark Five,
Dennis Brown,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Cluster,
Sarah Menescal,
Sonic Youth,
Eli Mardock,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Wolf Eyes,
David McCallum,
New Order,
Peter and Kerry,
Henry Cow,
Oneida,
Harmonia,
Jerry's Kids,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
The Searchers,
Nas,
Josef K,
Moebius,
The Five Americans,
Roxy Music,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
The United States of America,
Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield, Curtis Mayfield.
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.