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 Lesotho and from Mumbai.
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 1962 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Edmonton and Lyon.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Hong Kong 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 synthesizer sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen 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 Matthew Halsall to the punk kids.
I played it at the Troubador.
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 The Techniques. All the underground hits.
All Mandrill tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Reagan Youth 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 '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a mellotron and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Hot Snakes record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a mellotron.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Last Poets,
Unrelated Segments,
Robert Hood,
The Electric Prunes,
AZ,
Charles Mingus,
Mr. Review,
Lower 48,
The Alarm Clocks,
Lungfish,
Rapeman,
Tommy Roe,
The American Breed,
Ronan,
Jimmy McGriff,
Black Moon,
Angry Samoans,
Pierre Henry,
Bronski Beat,
Deepchord,
The Skatalites,
The Detroit Cobras,
EPMD,
The Barracudas,
Kerrie Biddell,
Sonic Youth,
Albert Ayler,
Skriet,
June Days,
John Cale,
Television Personalities,
New York Dolls,
Al Stewart,
Jerry's Kids,
The Saints,
Eden Ahbez,
Maurizio,
Quadrant,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Niagra,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Neil Young,
Delta 5,
Bang On A Can,
Adolescents,
R.M.O.,
Can,
Bill Near,
The Divine Comedy,
Wolf Eyes,
Half Japanese,
MC5,
Rites of Spring,
Massinfluence,
Big Daddy Kane,
Country Teasers,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
Infiniti,
The Fall,
Marshall Jefferson,
Barclay James Harvest,
Swell Maps,
Junior Murvin,
Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D, Schoolly D.
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.