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 Guinea and from Lille.
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 1971.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Mumbai 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 linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Holger Czukay 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 Black Bananas to the funk 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 Bobby Hutcherson. All the underground hits.
All T.S.O.L. tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Bronski Beat record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a harpsichord and a sitar and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Sticky Fingaz feat. Raekwon record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your guitar and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a guitar.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Sparks,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Rosa Yemen,
Jeru the Damaja,
Crash Course in Science,
Trumans Water,
Eric Dolphy,
Lindisfarne,
Mad Mike,
U.S. Maple,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
Idris Muhammad,
Blancmange,
Isaac Hayes,
Tres Demented,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
The Associates,
Pere Ubu,
Model 500,
The Music Machine,
The Divine Comedy,
Bob Dylan,
Underground Resistance,
DJ Style,
Intrusion,
Guru Guru,
Marmalade,
Shuggie Otis,
Adolescents,
Von Mondo,
The Wake,
Black Moon,
Panda Bear,
Echo & the Bunnymen,
Clear Light,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Tom Boy,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Aswad,
Joey Negro,
Hoover,
Circle Jerks,
Cameo,
Scion,
Girls At Our Best!,
Jerry's Kids,
Deakin,
Mandrill,
Sällskapet,
The Pretty Things,
Nick Fraelich,
Bauhaus,
Nik Kershaw,
Alphaville,
Kauko Röyhkä ja Narttu,
The Gun Club,
Steve Hackett,
The Monochrome Set,
Brass Construction,
Wasted Youth,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux, Lizzy Mercier Descloux.
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.