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 Montenegro and from Jakarta.
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 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Spokane and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manchester 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 oboe 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 John Cale to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Radio Birdman. All the underground hits.
All Max Romeo tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Pulsallama 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a 808 and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Rahsaan Roland Kirk record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Malaria!,
Royal Trux,
Nas,
Scientists,
The Black Dice,
Don Cherry,
Pere Ubu,
Underground Resistance,
Big Daddy Kane,
Barry Ungar,
Scion,
Crispy Ambulance,
Mo-Dettes,
Man Parrish,
Depeche Mode,
Main Source,
The Sonics,
The Stooges,
Model 500,
Tubeway Army,
Ponytail,
AZ,
Livin' Joy,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
Zapp,
The Neon Judgement,
Skarface,
Roxette,
Fela Kuti,
The Five Americans,
Donald Byrd,
Groovy Waters,
Shoche,
the Fania All-Stars,
Camron Feat. Jay Z And Juelz,
Sun City Girls,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Soul Sonic Force,
Accadde A,
The Standells,
Wally Richardson,
Mad Mike,
Guru Guru,
Byron Stingily,
Franke,
Make Up,
Althea and Donna,
Lindisfarne,
The Blackbyrds,
Jacques Brel,
LL Cool J,
The Wake,
The Red Krayola,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Laurel Aitken,
The Real Kids,
Half Japanese,
Wasted Youth,
T.S.O.L.,
Bob Dylan,
Pierre Henry,
Monolake, Monolake, Monolake, Monolake.
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.