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 Liberia and from Paris.
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 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Columbus and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Taipei 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 chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Aural Exciters to the jazz 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 The Doors. All the underground hits.
All London Community Gospel Choir tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rosa Yemen record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 organ and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your spring reverb and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar 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?
Kerrie Biddell,
Guru Guru,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Standells,
Basic Channel,
The Techniques,
The Fortunes,
Malaria!,
Royal Trux,
Stiv Bators,
Severed Heads,
Anakelly,
Grandmaster Flash,
Dorothy Ashby,
Hasil Adkins,
KRS-One,
Lalo Schifrin,
Outsiders,
Glenn Branca,
Schoolly D,
Moebius,
Donald Byrd,
Infiniti,
Arab on Radar,
Stockholm Monsters,
Tommy Roe,
Intrusion,
The Sound,
Technova,
The Cure,
Skriet,
Qualms,
Byron Stingily,
Fat Boys,
Depeche Mode,
Cymande,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Second Layer,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Parry Music,
Cybotron,
The Fall,
This Heat,
Alice Coltrane,
Matthew Halsall,
the Swans,
Model 500,
Traffic Nightmare,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Procol Harum,
Patti Smith,
Unrelated Segments,
Althea and Donna,
UT,
The Blues Magoos,
Ralphi Rosario,
Mad Mike,
Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav, Nils Olav.
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.