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 Sudan and from Toronto.
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 1960 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Edmonton.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Philadelphia 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 Captain Beefheart 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 Crispian St. Peters 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 Neil Young & Crazy Horse. All the underground hits.
All Tres Demented tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Patti Smith record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap 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 chamberlin and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Inner City record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a spring reverb.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispian St. Peters,
Sonny Sharrock,
Severed Heads,
Animal Collective,
Zapp,
JFA,
Mandrill,
8 Eyed Spy,
Soft Cell,
The Offenders,
Echospace,
Gary Puckett & The Union Gap,
Scan 7,
Q65,
Gil Scott Heron,
The Smiths,
John Foxx,
DJ Style,
The Stooges,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Dirtbombs,
Marmalade,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Mantronix,
Gang Gang Dance,
Surgeon,
Dead Boys,
Nas,
Gastr Del Sol,
Barclay James Harvest,
This Heat,
The American Breed,
Be Bop Deluxe,
Gabor Szabo,
Eli Mardock,
Sugar Minott,
Sexual Harrassment,
Lebanon Hanover,
CMW,
Fugazi,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Deakin,
The Selecter,
Blancmange,
Ken Boothe,
Joy Division,
Matthew Halsall,
David Bowie,
Supertramp,
Con Funk Shun,
Gerry Rafferty,
Tres Demented,
Sunsets and Hearts,
Moby Grape,
Wolf Eyes,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Dark Day,
The Pop Group,
Stereo Dub,
Donald Byrd,
Tears for Fears,
Dawn Penn,
Motorama,
Susan Cadogan,
Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee, Spoonie Gee.
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.