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 Lithuania and from Taipei.
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 1967 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Philadelphia and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Portland 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 spring reverb 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 The Beau Brummels to the disco kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 Gong. All the underground hits.
All R.M.O. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every LL Cool J record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying an organ and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Erykah Badu record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Matthew Bourne,
Stetsasonic,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
The Invisible,
Groovy Waters,
Khruangbin,
the Germs,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Dave Clark Five,
Organ,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Gories,
Terry Callier,
Blake Baxter,
Man Eating Sloth,
Lungfish,
Jawbox,
The Skatalites,
The Last Poets,
Gang of Four,
Jeff Lynne,
Jerry's Kids,
Wings,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ornette Coleman,
Crash Course in Science,
Monks,
Brass Construction,
The Litter,
Dennis Brown,
Accadde A,
Zero Boys,
The Doobie Brothers,
Moebius,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Circle Jerks,
Boz Scaggs,
Sandy B,
Chris & Cosey,
The Count Five,
Ohio Players,
Bobbi Humphrey,
The Sonics,
Nirvana,
the Association,
The Sound,
The Raincoats,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Angels of Light,
Warsaw,
Sun Ra,
Sight & Sound,
The Knickerbockers,
L. Decosne,
Gerry Rafferty,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Sugar Minott,
Nils Olav,
Hoover,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Dave Gahan,
The Monks,
Livin' Joy,
The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes, The Fortunes.
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.