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 Bolivia and from Taipei.
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 1968 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Halifax and Glasgow.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 chamberlin 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 Danielle Patucci to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Wolf Eyes. All the underground hits.
All Gastr Del Sol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Gang of Four record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a 808.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Maurizio,
Dead Boys,
Magazine,
The Pop Group,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Chris & Cosey,
Sixth Finger,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Index,
The Beau Brummels,
Harpers Bizarre,
The Barracudas,
Interpol,
Marmalade,
Dual Sessions,
Mark Hollis,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Theoretical Girls,
Ultramagnetic MC's,
Godley & Creme,
The Trojans,
John Coltrane,
Graham Central Station,
the Fania All-Stars,
The Wake,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Mo-Dettes,
the Bar-Kays,
Glambeats Corp.,
Sarah Menescal,
Surgeon,
Bluetip,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Stooges,
Whodini,
Nick Fraelich,
Fad Gadget,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Radio Birdman,
Youth Brigade,
Suburban Knight,
Wolf Eyes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Flash Fearless,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Spandau Ballet,
Gerry Rafferty,
Loose Ends,
Warren Ellis,
Inner City,
Morten Harket,
Young Marble Giants,
Boz Scaggs,
Drive Like Jehu,
Yazoo,
Eli Mardock,
Traffic Nightmare,
PIL,
Das Ding,
Throbbing Gristle,
Aural Exciters,
Shoche,
Motorama, Motorama, Motorama, Motorama.
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.