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 the UAE 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 1963 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Johannesburg and Spokane.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Accra 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 1968 at the first Bowie practice in a loft in Bromley.
I was working on the snare 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 Public Enemy to the electroclash kids.
I played it at the Roxy.
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 Throbbing Gristle. All the underground hits.
All Thee Headcoats tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Terrestrial Tones 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 güiro and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a These Immortal Souls record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a snare.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a theremin.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Henry Cow,
Spandau Ballet,
Louis and Bebe Barron,
The Last Poets,
Babytalk,
Tom Boy,
Juan Atkins,
The Cosmic Jokers,
Sister Nancy,
Godley & Creme,
The Golliwogs,
The Move,
Avey Tare,
Bootsy Collins,
Bootsy's Rubber Band,
The Happenings,
Lalo Schifrin,
Country Teasers,
MC5,
The American Breed,
Alphaville,
Second Layer,
Carl Craig,
Arthur Verocai,
Radiopuhelimet,
Piero Umiliani,
Camouflage,
D'Angelo,
E-Dancer,
The Smiths,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
the Normal,
Scion,
Brand Nubian,
Nico,
The Buckinghams,
Avey Tare & Kría Brekkan,
Richard Hell and the Voidoids,
KRS-One,
Skarface,
Procol Harum,
Lonnie Liston Smith,
The Real Kids,
Ohio Players,
Bobby Sherman,
Bobby Hutcherson,
Pet Shop Boys,
Rahsaan Roland Kirk,
Saccharine Trust,
Parry Music,
L. Decosne,
Eric B and Rakim,
Roxette,
The Human League,
Agitation Free,
Gil Scott-Heron and Jamie xx,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Minutemen,
Grandmaster Flash,
DJ Style,
Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark,
Dawn Penn,
Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight, Suburban Knight.
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.