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 Indonesia and from Columbus.
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 1968 to 1976.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Stockholm and Houston.
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 arpeggiator 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 Talk Talk to the disco 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 Amon Düül II. All the underground hits.
All Ultravox tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Teenage Jesus and the Jerks 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 '80s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a guitar and a marimba and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Angry Samoans record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your snare and bought a mellotron.
I hear that you and your band have sold your mellotron and bought a snare.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Gil Scott Heron,
Nico,
Rufus Thomas,
Bang On A Can,
The New Christs,
Urselle,
Los Fastidios,
Matthew Halsall,
The Move,
Deakin,
Cymande,
Sight & Sound,
the Sonics,
The Stooges,
Swans,
Ten City,
Eric Copeland,
Derrick May,
Ronnie Foster,
Mandrill,
The Divine Comedy,
Man Eating Sloth,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Marmalade,
Faust,
Robert Görl,
The Sound,
Pantytec,
Byron Stingily,
Groovy Waters,
MDC,
Youth Brigade,
Toni Rubio,
De La Soul & Jungle Brothers,
Lightning Bolt,
Beasts of Bourbon,
Dawn Penn,
Wasted Youth,
Sonny Sharrock,
Black Sheep,
Scott Walker,
The Walker Brothers,
The Star Department,
Thee Headcoats,
Scion,
Cluster,
The Gories,
Simply Red,
Spandau Ballet,
Mary Jane Girls,
The Velvet Underground,
Tears for Fears,
The Cramps,
The Alarm Clocks,
Marine Girls,
Negative Approach,
Outsiders,
The Martian,
The Skatalites,
T. Rex,
Lucky Dragons,
Strawberry Alarm Clock,
Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound, Rhythm & Sound.
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.