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 Bangladesh and from Philadelphia.
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 1962 to 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Winnipeg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mexico City 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 guitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Pylon to the grunge 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 Rod Modell. All the underground hits.
All Sun Ra Arkestra tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Roy Ayers Ubiquity record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno 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 güiro and an organ and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Soft Cell record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your oboe and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an oboe.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Ice-T,
Gerry Rafferty,
Mission of Burma,
The Five Americans,
Radiohead,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rites of Spring,
Dead Boys,
the Germs,
Eve St. Jones,
MDC,
June of 44,
Eden Ahbez,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Scratch Acid,
Jandek,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Marine Girls,
Swans,
Danielle Patucci,
Jeff Lynne,
Rhythm & Sound,
Quadrant,
Pussy Galore,
Hasil Adkins,
Minny Pops,
The Star Department,
Y Pants,
La Düsseldorf,
Amon Düül,
Skarface,
Marc Almond,
Cybotron,
The Techniques,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Searchers,
Black Flag,
Thee Headcoats,
Second Layer,
Yellowson,
The Evens,
Model 500,
Oblivians,
The Sound,
Half Japanese,
Maleditus Sound,
Wally Richardson,
Suburban Knight,
D'Angelo,
Morten Harket,
Jacques Brel,
R.M.O.,
Aural Exciters,
Michelle Simonal,
Yaz,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Television Personalities,
Harry Pussy,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Popol Vuh,
The Move, The Move, The Move, The Move.
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.