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 Grenada and from Lyon.
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 1969 to 1978.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Sao Paulo and Calgary.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila 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 marimba sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart 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 Jesper Dahlback to the grunge 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 New Order. All the underground hits.
All The Men They Couldn't Hang tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Tremeloes 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 '80s.
I hear you're buying a rhodes and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Fire Engines record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your 808 and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a 808.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Rotary Connection,
EPMD,
Radio Birdman,
The Offenders,
Spandau Ballet,
LL Cool J,
Avey Tare's Slasher Flicks,
Deakin,
Curtis Mayfield,
Camouflage,
Peter Gordon & Love of Life Orchestra,
DNA,
Mo-Dettes,
London Community Gospel Choir,
Soft Cell,
Los Fastidios,
Bizarre Inc.,
Matthew Bourne,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yaz,
Nils Olav,
Michelle Simonal,
Gabor Szabo,
Larry & the Blue Notes,
Absolute Body Control,
Goldenarms,
Y Pants,
Franke,
Faust,
Be Bop Deluxe,
The Red Krayola,
FM Einheit,
Subhumans,
Darondo,
Tom Boy,
The Techniques,
The Jesus and Mary Chain,
Monks,
Whodini,
The Sonics,
MC5,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Saccharine Trust,
Thompson Twins,
Tubeway Army,
Livin' Joy,
Yazoo,
Jacques Brel,
Anakelly,
Arcadia,
T. Rex,
The Moleskins,
The Smiths,
The Wake,
John Lydon,
David Axelrod,
Siglo XX,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Ohio Players,
Freddie Wadling,
Soulsonic Force,
Crime,
The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites, The Skatalites.
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.