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 Nepal and from Toronto.
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 1965 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Accra and Madrid.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Winnipeg 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 guitar 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 Intrusion to the grunge kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Marmalade. All the underground hits.
All Boz Scaggs tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal grunge hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Freddie Wadling record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Scratch Acid,
Monks,
Marcia Griffiths,
The Dave Clark Five,
Eric Dolphy,
Youth Brigade,
8 Eyed Spy,
The American Breed,
The Young Rascals,
Suburban Knight,
the Swans,
Morten Harket,
The Detroit Cobras,
Bobby Sherman,
David Axelrod,
Fifty Foot Hose,
The Fugs,
Gerry Rafferty,
Oneida,
48th St. Collective,
The Gories,
Jerry Gold Smith,
Visage,
Nils Olav,
B.T. Express,
Japan,
The Busters,
Crooked Eye,
Con Funk Shun,
Fluxion,
Audionom,
Aswad,
Chris & Cosey,
Severed Heads,
Avey Tare,
Intrusion,
The Wake,
Eden Ahbez,
The Durutti Column,
X-101,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
The Alarm Clocks,
Radio Birdman,
One Last Wish,
Marc Almond,
Prince Buster,
F. McDonald,
The Offenders,
Gang Starr,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
Danielle Patucci,
Todd Terry,
Godley & Creme,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
The Shadows of Knight,
Scott Walker,
Soul Sonic Force,
Procol Harum,
John Coltrane,
N.O.R.E. Featuring Pharrell,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos, The Blues Magoos.
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.