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 Burkina and from Manchester.
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 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Delhi.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Knickerbockers to the disco kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
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 Moleskins. All the underground hits.
All The Shadows of Knight tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every A Flock of Seagulls 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a clarinet and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Gap Band record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a clarinet.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Ultra Naté,
Glenn Branca,
Deadbeat,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Bad Manners,
Barclay James Harvest,
Minor Threat,
Metal Thangz,
The Fire Engines,
The J.B.'s,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
Silicon Teens,
Rufus Thomas,
Terry Callier,
Lakeside,
Cal Tjader,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Agent Orange,
Major Organ And The Adding Machine,
Supertramp,
The Angels of Light,
Saccharine Trust,
Yazoo,
Loose Ends,
Funkadelic,
The Techniques,
Siglo XX,
John Lydon,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Warren Ellis,
Fugazi,
Pussy Galore,
Negative Approach,
U.S. Maple,
Lebanon Hanover,
The Blues Magoos,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Roger Hodgson,
Faust,
Pharoah Sanders,
Fela Kuti,
Mark Hollis,
Fatback Band,
Panda Bear,
Von Mondo,
Sarah Menescal,
Country Teasers,
The Toasters,
Subhumans,
In Retrospect,
Gichy Dan,
The Music Machine,
Laurel Aitken,
Blake Baxter,
Skarface,
Kaleidoscope,
Oneida,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Suicide,
Buzzcocks,
Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee, Kool Moe Dee.
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.