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 Latvia and from Seoul.
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 1967 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Tehran.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Woodstock 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 rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Lou Reed 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 Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark to the grunge 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 Scan 7. All the underground hits.
All Vladislav Delay tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lebanon Hanover 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 '70s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a rhodes and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Red Krayola record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a chamberlin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your chamberlin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
The Smiths,
Metal Thangz,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Mr. Review,
The Blackbyrds,
Roxy Music,
Godley & Creme,
New York Dolls,
Fela Kuti,
Schoolly D,
Au Pairs,
Fatback Band,
The Invisible,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Slave,
Spandau Ballet,
Bobby Sherman,
The Move,
Jesper Dahlback,
Siouxsie and the Banshees,
Interpol,
The Cramps,
Model 500,
Stiv Bators,
Wire,
The Kinks,
Yusef Lateef,
Index,
Gil Scott-Heron & Brian Jackson,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Adolescents,
Porter Ricks,
The Red Krayola,
Black Flag,
Subhumans,
Panda Bear,
Kenny Larkin,
The Zeros,
Dave Gahan,
Lungfish,
The Toasters,
Yaz,
Kaleidoscope,
Kas Product,
Rod Modell,
A Certain Ratio,
Sparks,
The Gap Band,
Neil Young,
Monolake,
The Associates,
Al Stewart,
Bush Tetras,
Pussy Galore,
Tommy Roe,
World's Most,
Swell Maps,
Maleditus Sound,
Mars,
China Crisis,
Flipper,
Rakim, Rakim, Rakim, Rakim.
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.