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 Mauritius and from Bologna.
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 1965 to 1975.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Salvador.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Bremen 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 1976 at the first Wire practice in a loft in Watford.
I was working on the sitar 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 Throbbing Gristle to the rock 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 Saccharine Trust. All the underground hits.
All Ash Ra Tempel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Yazoo record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance 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 clarinet and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Blancmange record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Blackbyrds,
Godley & Creme,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Man Parrish,
Eli Mardock,
The Red Krayola,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Pulsallama,
X-Ray Spex,
The Young Rascals,
Pole,
It's A Beautiful Day,
Camouflage,
KRS-One,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Grauzone,
Easy Going,
Erasure,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
U.S. Maple,
Lindisfarne,
Rites of Spring,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Darondo,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Divine Comedy,
Zero Boys,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Skatalites,
Crispy Ambulance,
Dead Boys,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Loose Ends,
Sister Nancy,
Sixth Finger,
The Velvet Underground,
Gregory Isaacs,
Cameo,
Sonny Sharrock,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Harpers Bizarre,
Donald Byrd,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Circle Jerks,
Don Cherry,
ABBA,
Fluxion,
Marshall Jefferson,
The Count Five,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
cv313,
David McCallum,
Cheater Slicks,
The Kinks,
The Searchers,
Alison Limerick,
Silicon Teens,
Drive Like Jehu,
Stereo Dub,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles, Frankie Knuckles.
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.