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 Liberia and from Salvador.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975.
I was there at the first Throbbing Gristle show in London.
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 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in New York and Manchester.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul 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 1983 at the first Bronski Beat practice in a loft in Brixton.
I was working on the harpsichord 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 The Smoke to the funk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Basic Channel tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joey Negro 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a sitar and a mellotron and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Moby Grape record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought an organ.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Bobbi Humphrey,
Duran Duran,
The Fuzztones,
Sight & Sound,
Adolescents,
Warren Ellis,
JFA,
the Germs,
The Electric Prunes,
The Buckinghams,
Radio Birdman,
Ice-T,
X-101,
Connie Case,
Harmonia,
Swell Maps,
John Coltrane,
Suburban Knight,
The Move,
Donny Hathaway,
These Immortal Souls,
Johnny Clarke,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Ash Ra Tempel,
Pussy Galore,
E-Dancer,
Dawn Penn,
Leonard Cohen,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Ornette Coleman,
Boogie Down Productions,
Bauhaus,
Dual Sessions,
Quadrant,
Yusef Lateef,
DJ Sneak,
Camouflage,
The Moody Blues,
Quantec,
Shoche,
Kurtis Blow,
Ronnie Foster,
The Doors,
June Days,
Cymande,
Girls At Our Best!,
F. McDonald,
The Pretty Things,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
New York Dolls,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Babytalk,
ABBA,
The Misunderstood,
Big Daddy Kane,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Wake,
Reagan Youth,
Alphaville,
Scratch Acid,
Electric Light Orchestra,
Cluster, Cluster, Cluster, Cluster.
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.