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 Lesotho and from Jakarta.
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 1963 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Manchester and Columbus.
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 Michael McDonald 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 DeepChord presents Echospace to the punk 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 Warren Ellis. All the underground hits.
All Theoretical Girls tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Sugar Minott record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco 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 marimba and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a the Sonics record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought a guitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Wire,
Sex Pistols,
Bad Manners,
Tom Boy,
John Holt,
Carl Craig,
John Lydon,
Lakeside,
Marvin Gaye,
Sam Rivers,
Surgeon,
Cecil Taylor,
Crooked Eye,
The Residents,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Faraquet,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Smog,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Danielle Patucci,
Bobby Womack,
Reagan Youth,
The Motions,
Pierre Henry,
Con Funk Shun,
Grauzone,
Kaleidoscope,
Boz Scaggs,
Nils Olav,
Barbara Tucker,
kango's stein massive,
Rufus Thomas,
Kool Moe Dee,
The Standells,
Ultra Naté,
The Fall,
Crash Course in Science,
Toni Rubio,
Graham Central Station,
Sun Ra,
Derrick Morgan,
The Dave Clark Five,
Tim Buckley,
Sound Behaviour,
Make Up,
Vladislav Delay,
Tomorrow,
Neu!,
Dark Day,
Lungfish,
T.S.O.L.,
The Saints,
The Smoke,
The Sonics,
The Human League,
Darondo,
The Divine Comedy,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Jeff Mills,
Popol Vuh,
Essential Logic,
June Days, June Days, June Days, June Days.
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.