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 Panama and from Mexico City.
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 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Copenhagen and Accra.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Johannesburg 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 1979 at the first Josef K practice in a loft in Edinburgh.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Gang of Four to the punk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Symarip. All the underground hits.
All H. Thieme tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terror Squad Feat. Camron record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grime hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a synthesizer and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Young Marble Giants record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Television,
Harry Pussy,
Crispy Ambulance,
10cc,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
Radiopuhelimet,
Livin' Joy,
Mr. Review,
Leonard Cohen,
Japan,
Quantec,
Metal Thangz,
One Last Wish,
The Velvet Underground,
Nils Olav,
The Fugs,
Skaos,
Bobby Hutcherson,
John Cale,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Avey Tare,
F. McDonald,
Amazonics,
Vaughan Mason & Crew,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Simply Red,
Colin Newman,
Scratch Acid,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dog,
Malaria!,
Agent Orange,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Carl Craig,
Wolf Eyes,
Bronski Beat,
Accadde A,
The Music Machine,
Joyce Sims,
The Searchers,
Von Mondo,
Neu!,
Amon Düül II,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Fugazi,
Jawbox,
Dawn Penn,
John Holt,
Black Pus,
The Names,
cv313,
The Skatalites,
Lee Hazlewood,
Drexciya,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
The Durutti Column,
Scott Walker + Sunn O))),
Barry Ungar,
The Neon Judgement,
Skriet,
Gregory Isaacs,
Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond, Marc Almond.
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.