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 Bahrain and from Bremen.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1966 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Madrid and Lagos.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 JFA to the jazz kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Alice Coltrane. All the underground hits.
All Nas tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Jerry Gold Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and an oboe and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Echospace record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Pussy Galore,
Sarah Menescal,
Popol Vuh,
The Fugs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Jesper Dahlback,
The Gun Club,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Nico,
Liliput,
Todd Terry,
Eve St. Jones,
Harry Pussy,
AZ,
Brass Construction,
Visage,
Index,
Lou Reed,
F. McDonald,
Technova,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Lalann,
Public Image Ltd.,
Man Parrish,
Saccharine Trust,
Soul Sonic Force,
Mo-Dettes,
Rhythm & Sound,
Moby Grape,
Smog,
Whodini,
The Cowsills,
Bill Wells,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Outsiders,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bobby Womack,
Röyhkä ja Rättö ja Lehtisalo,
the Germs,
The Victims,
the Sonics,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Grauzone,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Blake Baxter,
Darondo,
X-102,
Pole,
Quantec,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Kayak,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Rufus Thomas,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Lindisfarne,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
D'Angelo,
Simply Red,
the Human League,
London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir, London Community Gospel Choir.
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.