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 Papua New Guinea 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 1962 to 1979.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Woodstock and Milan.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Shanghai 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 at the first Suicide practice in a loft in New York.
I was working on the chamberlin sounds with much patience.
I was there when Michael McDonald 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 Dawn Penn to the funk kids.
I played it at the Crocodile.
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 Silicon Teens. All the underground hits.
All Skaos tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every The Fall record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal punk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a marimba and a theremin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Throbbing Gristle record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a sitar.
I hear that you and your band have sold your sitar and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Names,
The Remains,
Soul Sonic Force,
Popol Vuh,
Scientists,
Neil Young,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Moss Icon,
The Mighty Diamonds,
Cheater Slicks,
This Heat,
Carl Craig,
Minny Pops,
Eyeless In Gaza,
David McCallum,
Reagan Youth,
Robert Hood,
Gian Franco Pienzio,
Ralphi Rosario,
Black Moon,
Bang on a Can All-Stars,
Marshall Jefferson,
Kurtis Blow,
Bauhaus,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Yazoo,
T.S.O.L.,
Anthony Braxton,
The Leaves,
These Immortal Souls,
Sight & Sound,
The Blackbyrds,
Heavy D & The Boyz,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Slits,
Ultimate Spinach,
Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds,
Section 25,
Sun Ra Arkestra,
Magma,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gang Starr,
The Cramps,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
La Düsseldorf,
Bobby Sherman,
Cal Tjader,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
Arab on Radar,
Bronski Beat,
Tommy Roe,
Gang Green,
Eric Dolphy,
Organ,
The Five Americans,
Kerrie Biddell,
Desert Stars,
The Dead C,
The Buckinghams,
H. Thieme,
Peter and Kerry,
Intrusion,
Camberwell Now,
Scan 7,
The Litter, The Litter, The Litter, The Litter.
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.