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 France and from London.
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 1972.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Houston and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Cairo 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 organ 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 New Age Steppers to the rap 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 Arab on Radar. All the underground hits.
All Soul Sonic Force tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Camouflage record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal jazz 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 marimba and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Porter Ricks record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Alphaville,
Electric Prunes,
Magma,
Porter Ricks,
The Selecter,
Brand Nubian,
Connie Case,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Pantaleimon,
Sun City Girls,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
The Electric Prunes,
The Seeds,
Vladislav Delay,
Rites of Spring,
Ossler,
Ohio Players,
Sonic Youth,
Moebius,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
New York Dolls,
Bootsy Collins,
ABC,
Todd Terry,
Joey Negro,
Cal Tjader,
Pharoah Sanders,
Lou Reed,
The Mojo Men,
Aloha Tigers,
Neu!,
Metal Thangz,
One Last Wish,
Suicide,
Sexual Harrassment,
The Smiths,
Franke,
DJ Sneak,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
T.S.O.L.,
Boredoms,
Agitation Free,
Ultravox,
The Barracudas,
Lafayette Afro Rock Band,
Q and Not U,
Minny Pops,
Funky Four + One,
Blake Baxter,
Simply Red,
Yaz,
Banda Bassotti,
Young Marble Giants,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Excepter,
Bang On A Can,
Ronnie Foster,
AZ,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Associates,
F. McDonald,
Rotary Connection,
Visage,
Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks, Cheater Slicks.
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.