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 Iraq and from Hong Kong.
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 1968 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Jakarta and Shanghai.
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 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 Mary Jane Girls to the funk kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Fugs. All the underground hits.
All The Pop Group tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Steve Hackett record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Young Rascals record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a sitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The J.B.'s,
Dark Day,
The Cure,
Bill Near,
Tomorrow,
The Searchers,
A Certain Ratio,
The Pop Group,
The Smoke,
New York Dolls,
Con Funk Shun,
Jawbox,
David McCallum,
Wire,
The Five Americans,
The Divine Comedy,
Ossler,
Symarip,
Stereo Dub,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
The Modern Lovers,
48th St. Collective,
Freddie Wadling,
The Gap Band,
Television,
Electric Prunes,
The Evens,
Drive Like Jehu,
Kevin Saunderson,
Q65,
Niagra,
Black Pus,
Gichy Dan,
Unwound,
Hot Snakes,
Trumans Water,
DJ Style,
Country Teasers,
Eric B and Rakim,
Fluxion,
Stockholm Monsters,
Mission of Burma,
Pussy Galore,
Tim Buckley,
The Gories,
Ultravox,
ABBA,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Bronski Beat,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
The Monochrome Set,
Swell Maps,
Mantronix,
Deepchord,
Unrelated Segments,
Girls At Our Best!,
John Cale,
Monks,
Jesper Dahlbäck,
Lakeside,
Das Ding,
Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow, Kurtis Blow.
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.