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 Latvia and from New York.
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 1962 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Mumbai.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris 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 synthesizer 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 Spandau Ballet to the rock kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 The Neon Judgement. All the underground hits.
All Jesper Dahlback tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Kool G Rap & DJ Polo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 808 and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Association record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobby Sherman,
Robert Wyatt,
The Shadows of Knight,
Kenny Larkin,
Jimmy McGriff,
Gabor Szabo,
Faust,
The Standells,
Bobby Womack,
Marcia Griffiths,
Inner City,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Blake Baxter,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Symarip,
Eddi Front,
Radiopuhelimet,
Can,
Ossler,
Tom Boy,
Arab on Radar,
Maurizio,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Victims,
Minnie Riperton,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Y Pants,
Negative Approach,
DNA,
Urselle,
John Foxx,
Infiniti,
U.S. Maple,
Sun City Girls,
Radio Birdman,
Roger Hodgson,
Bobbi Humphrey,
Babytalk,
The Dirtbombs,
Thee Headcoats,
Guru Guru,
Tears for Fears,
Goldenarms,
The Fuzztones,
The Pretty Things,
Maleditus Sound,
Sexual Harrassment,
Albert Ayler,
The Young Rascals,
Fugazi,
Blossom Toes,
Reuben Wilson,
Marine Girls,
48th St. Collective,
Archie Shepp,
Lou Reed,
Kerri Chandler,
World's Most,
Outsiders,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Don Cherry,
Adolescents,
Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd, Bobby Byrd.
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.