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 Lesotho and from Jakarta.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston 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 spring reverb sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Gap Band to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 The Associates. All the underground hits.
All Harmonia tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bob Dylan record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk 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 harpsichord and a guitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a John Foxx record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Crispy Ambulance,
Popol Vuh,
Charles Mingus,
Yellowson,
Angry Samoans,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Smog,
Fela Kuti,
Rufus Thomas,
Sexual Harrassment,
Traffic Nightmare,
Banda Bassotti,
Harry Pussy,
Eddi Front,
Matthew Halsall,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
FM Einheit,
Au Pairs,
Oneida,
Interpol,
Sam Rivers,
Kool Moe Dee,
Public Image Ltd.,
Hashim,
The Associates,
Franke,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Prince Buster,
Funky Four + One,
Skriet,
The Remains,
Jacques Brel,
Spandau Ballet,
Lebanon Hanover,
PIL,
Bush Tetras,
June of 44,
Gang Starr,
Marvin Gaye,
Erykah Badu,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Fad Gadget,
Eve St. Jones,
Laurel Aitken,
The Smoke,
Amon Düül II,
The Kinks,
Underground Resistance,
Main Source,
The Moody Blues,
Matthew Bourne,
The Happenings,
The Shadows of Knight,
Intrusion,
The Motions,
The Fugs,
Mission of Burma,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Saccharine Trust,
The Velvet Underground,
John Lydon,
Don Cherry,
Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters, Aural Exciters.
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.