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 Qatar and from Lyon.
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 1963 to 1974.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and New York.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Delhi 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when David Bowie 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 Ultimate Spinach to the grime kids.
I played it at Trash.
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 Sugar Minott. All the underground hits.
All Interpol tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Chris Corsano record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal electroclash hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Last Poets record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Angels of Light,
kango's stein massive,
Marmalade,
Zero Boys,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Symarip,
Talk Talk,
Radio Birdman,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Byron Stingily,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Whodini,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
John Foxx,
Terror Squad Feat. Camron,
Animal Collective,
The Gories,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Jesper Dahlback,
Smog,
Mark Hollis,
Urselle,
Fad Gadget,
The Modern Lovers,
Black Bananas,
Minutemen,
Guru Guru,
UT,
Siglo XX,
The Move,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Donny Hathaway,
Angry Samoans,
EPMD,
Hardrive,
Half Japanese,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Isaac Hayes,
Monks,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
U.S. Maple,
The Fire Engines,
The Peanut Butter Conspiracy,
Shoche,
Arthur Verocai,
8 Eyed Spy,
Radiohead,
KRS-One,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Barbara Tucker,
Lou Christie,
Blancmange,
Bobbi Humphrey,
OOIOO,
Aloha Tigers,
Ossler,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
Banda Bassotti,
Crime,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy, Eric Dolphy.
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.