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 Thailand and from Edmonton.
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 1960 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Portland.
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 1975 at the first Throbbing Gristle practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the guitar 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 Public Image Ltd. to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Spitz.
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 Scott Walker. All the underground hits.
All Easy Going tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sun Ra record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '80s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a chamberlin and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Aloha Tigers record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Smoke,
Panda Bear,
CMW,
The Real Kids,
Yazoo,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Judy Mowatt,
The Durutti Column,
Robert Hood,
Motorama,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Mantronix,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Prince Buster,
Sugar Minott,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Heaven 17,
Zapp,
The Cramps,
Kayak,
Howard Jones,
Nik Kershaw,
Deepchord,
Rapeman,
Hasil Adkins,
Can,
Warsaw,
Black Sheep,
John Foxx,
The Human League,
Letta Mbulu,
Rakim,
Amon Düül,
Soul II Soul,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
Fugazi,
Silicon Teens,
The Fire Engines,
Whodini,
Mr. Review,
Cheater Slicks,
Mandrill,
Metal Thangz,
Sixth Finger,
Stereo Dub,
Fat Boys,
Terrestrial Tones,
Lyres,
the Association,
Television,
The Cure,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Tim Buckley,
Matthew Bourne,
the Slits,
Mo-Dettes,
Charles Mingus,
Crispian St. Peters,
Lightning Bolt,
Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker, Scott Walker.
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.