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 Slovakia and from Seoul.
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 1961 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 Tom Verlaine 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 Sound Behaviour to the grunge kids.
I played it at the 40 Watt.
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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Derrick May tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Arab on Radar record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Livin' Joy record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Anakelly,
The Monks,
Malaria!,
The Durutti Column,
R.M.O.,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lalo Schifrin,
The Sound,
Suburban Knight,
F. McDonald,
Zero Boys,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
The Sonics,
Boredoms,
Section 25,
The Music Machine,
Eden Ahbez,
Oblivians,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
the Association,
Joe Finger,
New Order,
Ralphi Rosario,
Sight & Sound,
Procol Harum,
Yusef Lateef,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
Hasil Adkins,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Bush Tetras,
Agent Orange,
Spoonie Gee,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Cymande,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Skaos,
John Cale,
Sugar Minott,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Eric B and Rakim,
Soft Cell,
MC5,
Lower 48,
Kurtis Blow,
Scientists,
Sällskapet,
Sam Rivers,
Au Pairs,
Flash Fearless,
Skriet,
Reuben Wilson,
Sexual Harrassment,
Erasure,
Dark Day,
The Index,
Radiopuhelimet,
Swans,
Dorothy Ashby,
Rhythim Is Rhythim,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Yazoo,
Josef K,
Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon, Black Moon.
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.