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 Philippines 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 1960 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Winnipeg and Edmonton.
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 organ sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 DJ Style to the funk kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
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 Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines. All the underground hits.
All Oblivians tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Rotary Connection 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 mellotron and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Lonnie Liston Smith record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a marimba.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Soft Cell,
Crash Course in Science,
Goldenarms,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Suicide,
June of 44,
Ornette Coleman,
The Beau Brummels,
Pierre Henry,
Amon Düül II,
The Grass Roots,
The Pretty Things,
Pussy Galore,
Donald Byrd,
Lee Hazlewood,
Guru Guru,
Matthew Bourne,
Harmonia,
Donny Hathaway,
Von Mondo,
Peter and Kerry,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
Roger Hodgson,
Reagan Youth,
Buzzcocks,
The United States of America,
Joyce Sims,
Kerri Chandler,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
The Residents,
D'Angelo,
The Doors,
The Knickerbockers,
Bob Dylan,
Byron Stingily,
a-ha,
Lungfish,
Jesper Dahlback,
UT,
Mars,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Bobby Sherman,
Man Parrish,
Qualms,
the Human League,
Scan 7,
Archie Shepp,
Faraquet,
Davy DMX,
Rekid,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Duran Duran,
A Certain Ratio,
Andrew Hill,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
New Order,
Second Layer,
X-101,
Gang of Four,
Cymande,
Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective, Animal Collective.
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.