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 Argentina and from Madrid.
But I was there.
I was there in 1973.
I was there at the first Television show in New York.
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 1960 to 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and London.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Glasgow 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 theremin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine 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 Mr. Review to the techno kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
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 Scrapy. All the underground hits.
All Sound Behaviour tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Tears for Fears record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal techno hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a linndrum and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Eyeless In Gaza 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?
Magazine,
Brothers Johnson,
Funky Four + One,
Symarip,
Eric Copeland,
Girls At Our Best!,
the Swans,
Connie Case,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Deepchord,
The Moleskins,
Excepter,
Buzzcocks,
the Association,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Arcadia,
Wasted Youth,
Joe Finger,
Glenn Branca,
Kango’s Stein Massive,
Scratch Acid,
Marmalade,
Moss Icon,
Dawn Penn,
DJ Sneak,
Pantytec,
Wire,
Freddie Wadling,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
Easy Going,
Cluster,
Fort Wilson Riot,
Susan Cadogan,
The Birthday Party,
Public Enemy,
June Days,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Andrew Hill,
10cc,
The Music Machine,
the Germs,
Lebanon Hanover,
Wally Richardson,
F. McDonald,
The Divine Comedy,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Khruangbin,
The Gap Band,
Ossler,
Electric Prunes,
Oblivians,
The Young Rascals,
World's Most,
Zero Boys,
Rapeman,
Sixth Finger,
X-101,
Pussy Galore,
Ronan,
Drive Like Jehu,
Ajijia Myrayebe,
Morten Harket,
Derrick Morgan,
Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music, Parry Music.
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.