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 Bulgaria and from Toronto.
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 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Lyon and Taipei.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Lagos 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 clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer 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 Deakin to the punk kids.
I played it at Cafe Wha.
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 Glambeats Corp.. All the underground hits.
All Scratch Acid tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Barrington Levy record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying an arpeggiator and a synthesizer and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Reuben Wilson record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your organ and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought an organ.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Morten Harket,
The Gladiators,
Index,
Scott Walker,
Aaron Thompson,
Amon Düül II,
Clear Light,
Gang Gang Dance,
Sonic Youth,
The Flesh Eaters,
Patti Smith,
Girls At Our Best!,
Derrick Morgan,
Suicide,
Colin Newman,
Todd Terry,
Lungfish,
Wings,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Jacob Miller,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
DJ Sneak,
Cabaret Voltaire,
The Men They Couldn't Hang,
Jeff Mills,
Outsiders,
Lower 48,
The Cosmic Jokers,
The Invisible,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
The Angels of Light,
Avey Tare,
Stockholm Monsters,
The Barracudas,
Model 500,
June of 44,
Pole,
Throbbing Gristle,
Deakin,
Aloha Tigers,
Roy Ayers Ubiquity,
Shuggie Otis,
R.M.O.,
The Buckinghams,
Country Joe & The Fish,
Arcadia,
Jeru the Damaja,
Vladislav Delay,
Marc Almond,
the Slits,
Moebius,
Average White Band,
The Kinks,
Thinking Fellers Union Local 282,
Don Cherry,
The Motions,
Altered Images,
Traffic Nightmare,
Prince Buster,
Lebanon Hanover,
Grey Daturas,
Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal, Sarah Menescal.
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.