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 Guyana and from Cairo.
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 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Delhi and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Sao Paulo 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 marimba 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 Banda Bassotti to the rap kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 World's Most. All the underground hits.
All Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every ABC record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rock 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 harpsichord and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Count Five record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Moby Grape,
The Buckinghams,
Peter and Kerry,
Von Mondo,
Glambeats Corp.,
Tom Boy,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Underground Resistance,
Ultimate Spinach,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Rosa Yemen,
Cameo,
D'Angelo,
Lower 48,
Rites of Spring,
The Chocolate Watch Band,
Sister Nancy,
Liliput,
F. McDonald,
Delon & Dalcan,
The Blues Magoos,
James White and The Blacks,
David Bowie,
Yaz,
Ossler,
Spoonie Gee,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Tremeloes,
Harry Pussy,
Eli Mardock,
Harmonia,
Clear Light,
Charles Mingus,
Fifty Foot Hose,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Royal Family And The Poor,
Jerry's Kids,
Cecil Taylor,
Sight & Sound,
Graham Central Station,
Malaria!,
Half Japanese,
Gang of Four,
The Fortunes,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Ronnie Foster,
Agitation Free,
Black Flag,
Morten Harket,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Sex Pistols,
Angry Samoans,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Khruangbin,
Visage,
The Count Five,
Piero Umiliani,
Sarah Menescal,
The Electric Prunes,
Eric B and Rakim,
Parry Music,
Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter, Blake Baxter.
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.